


Why Did It Have To Be Transylvania?

by stopmysinfulhand



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Vampires, blood sucking, gross depictions of blood sucking, romania - Freeform, vampire!reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 18:00:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 20,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16791937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stopmysinfulhand/pseuds/stopmysinfulhand
Summary: Bucky Barnes is afraid of few things, but pretty high on the list is vampires. It seems like a silly fear, until a mission to the Transylvania region of Romania makes his fears very palpable.





	1. Chapter 1

Bucky cleaned the barrel of his gun with a troubled expression. Breaking the silence that had been stretching for a long time, he spoke up, “I dunno, Steve. Why’s it gotta be Transylvania?”

Steve looked up from his own task and narrowed his eyes at his best friend. “What?” he asked, unsure he heard him right.

“Why’s it gotta be Transylvania?” Bucky repeated. “That place gives me the creeps.”

“Buck,” Steve started. He paused, unsure what move to make next. “You lived in Romania for two years. I don’t understand.”

Bucky set down his gun. He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair before he shrugged. “Yeah, but that was in Bucharest. S’not close to Transylvania.” He paused a moment before mumbling, “It’s on the complete opposite side of the country actually.”

“Why does it freak you out so much?” Steve asked, his eyebrow raised.

His friend shifted uncomfortably and wouldn’t make eye contact with him. Bucky mumbled something unintelligible.

Steve leaned closer. “What?”

Again, Bucky mumbled something too quiet to hear.

“Buck, I can’t—“ Steve started to sigh.

“Vampires,” Bucky finally said, interrupting him. His face was resolute. “I’m afraid of vampires.”

“Vampires,” Steve repeated. His eyebrows furrowed, and he got that ‘worried mom’ look that Bucky hated. “You’re afraid of vampires.”

Bucky snorted. “Sounds stupid when you say it, but yeah.”

Steve shifted in his seat. His arms were crossed firmly over his chest. “Since when?”

At the question, Bucky shifted uncomfortably again. He hesitated, worrying his bottom lip before he answered. “Remember when we saw Dracula at the movies?”

“You’ve been afraid of vampires since the 1930s?” Steve asked incredulously. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Cause it’s stupid, Steve. Plus,” he smiled fondly, “I had to put on a brave face. No way I coulda let you know how scared I was. Wouldn’t’ve been impressive.”

Steve scoffed and nudged his friend in the ribs. “I still would’ve thought you were cool.”

“Do you now?”

“No,” Steve teased. “Now it’s lame. What about them scares you?” The question was serious, despite his smile.

Bucky thought for a moment. “I think it’s the mind control,” he said quietly. “I think even then it scared me. To not be in control of myself.”

Steve’s face fell. “Oh Bucky,” he said quietly. He slipped his arm around Bucky’s shoulders and pulled him close, resting his cheek against Bucky’s hair. “S’okay.”

Bucky turned his face and buried it in Steve’s shoulder, sighing heavily. “Thanks, Stevie.”

“Anything for you, Buck,” Steve said. He grinned. “I’ll make sure no vampires get you on the mission.”

Bucky jabbed Steve in the ribs and grumbled, sitting up straight. “Shut up, punk.”

“You first, jerk.” Steve pulled his best friend into a quick hug. “It’ll be fine.”

* * *

Bucky rolled his shoulders uncomfortably in the quinjet. Of course their mission had to be in Brașov, in the deepest part of Transylvania. Right next to Dracula’s fucking castle. In the dead of winter, when the days were the shortest and the cold weather was murder on his shoulder. Oh yes. What a fun, exciting time.

Steve clapped his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, startling him out of his grumpy thoughts. “We’re nearing the drop point. Get ready,” he ordered gently.

Bucky nodded and shouldered a parachute. Maybe Steve could jump out of planes wearing nothing but a shield, but Bucky wasn’t about to risk it. His shoulder throbbed in agreement. Bucky grimaced.

The drop was fairly easy. They landed in one of the few spots outside the city that wasn’t coated in trees. Bucky unbuckled the pack and let it drop to the ground. Steve landed lightly next to him, rolling easily to his feet. The disregard for his own safety gave Bucky a headache, but that was nothing new. Steve gestured silently for Bucky to follow before he started into the woods, holding his shield by his side.

The further into the woods the two went, the darker it got. Soon enough, the only thing Bucky could see was the slight glint of moonlight on Steve’s shield. There was a rustle up ahead. Steve stopped, causing Bucky to nearly careen into him. “Stay here,” he whispered. Then he darted forward, leaving his friend alone amongst the trees.

Bucky groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered to himself. There was a soft thud behind him.

_“Bună, soldat.”_

Bucky stiffened and turned slowly. A woman in a white dress stood a few feet from him. She seemed to glow slightly in the darkness of the forest. Bucky blinked a couple of times, trying to let his eyes adjust.

“I missed you,” she said, closing in on him. Ordinarily, he would have felt antsy having someone so near him, but her presence had a calming effect on him. His head felt fuzzy, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.

Bucky swallowed hard. “Do I, uh, do I know you?” he asked, surprised his voice didn’t waver.

“No,” she said simply. She circled him, her head tilted slightly to the side. “But, I know you, Sergeant Barnes.” She pressed against his back suddenly. A shiver went up his spine and he straightened. “How could I not?” Her voice was a whisper next to his ear. “You’ve invaded my dreams for years.”

“Ma’am, I don’t—“ he started, but she shushed him.

“To be so close to you,” she said, her voice breathy. He felt a blush warm his cheeks. “It truly is a dream come true.” She laughed, the sound tinkling like a bell. He could feel her nose press against his neck and hear her inhale deeply. “ _Doamne,_ you smell good.”

Bucky shivered. “Thank you, ma’am,” he managed, his eyes trained on the sky.

“Come with me, James,” she murmured against his skin. “I need you.”

Slowly, Bucky’s head started to clear. Something was wrong. He stepped quickly away from her. Her face was different than it was before, sinister and predatory. A chill ran up his spine. “No,” he said, attempting to put force behind his words. “I won’t.”

She smiled, the action revealing sharpened canines. “Oh James,” she sighed. “You don’t have a choice.”

Bucky just barely managed to yell out, “Steve!” before she was on him. He thrashed beneath her and cried out.

“Be still,” she hissed out. Against his will, he became deathly stil, whimpering softly as he felt her teeth sink into his neck.

‘Why did it have to be Transylvania?’ he thought before he fell into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was really only a matter of time before I wrote a fic involving vampires and Bucky. I may change the title to something less dumb later. 
> 
> Translation notes:  
> Bună - hello  
> Doamne - my god


	2. Chapter 2

Bucky groaned softly and shifted. His whole body felt like it was on fire and his mouth may as well have been filled with cotton balls. The only source of relief was a cool cloth that pressed against his forehead. His eyelids fluttered open. His surroundings were very dark and everything was slightly blurred. Bucky could just barely make out the woman who cooed softly as she took the cloth, wrung it out, and reapplied it to Bucky’s feverish forehead. “Where—“ he croaked before he was interrupted with a coughing fit. A bolt of pain rolled through his neck and he gasped. 

The woman watched all of this with worried eyes. She carefully pressed a glass of water to his lips. “Drink,” she ordered softly. He did as she asked, letting the cool liquid roll down his sore throat. 

“Where am I?” he rasped, finally able to form the full sentence. 

She brushed his hair back from his face, her fingers caressing his cheek in a manner that seemed almost loving. “She really did a number on you, didn’t she?” asked the woman in lieu of an answer. 

Bucky felt frustration well up in him. “Who did?” 

“My mistress. She’s rather nasty, but she kept you alive.” Her eyes hardened slightly. “Although, I’m not sure how much good that will do you in the long run.” 

Bucky shifted onto his elbows and tried to blink his eyes clear. “Who are you?” 

She smiled softly. “My name is (Y/N). I’m here to take care of you.” Her hand brushed against his cheek again. 

“Why?” Without thinking, Bucky grabbed her wrist. It felt like ice. He released her just as quick and tried to stretch. Another bolt of pain ran through him. He clutched his neck, letting out a cry. His skin was bandaged. “What happened?” 

(Y/N) carefully pried Bucky’s hand off his neck and fluffed the pillows behind him before she pushed him back onto his back. “You need to rest so you can heal,” she insisted, brushing his hair back again. 

Bucky squirmed on the bed. Torn between pressing into her touch and recoiling out of disgust, he remained where he was. 

“I need to change your bandage now,” she cooed, her words almost forcefully soothing. Bucky relaxed slightly and nodded. (Y/N) carefully detached the bandage and looked it over, nodding in approval. “You heal very fast, James. Strange for a human.” 

He wanted to tell her about the serum, how he didn’t know if he could even be considered human anymore. Instead, he asked her how she knew his name. 

“I saw you in my dreams, too,” she said. “Just like my mistress did. I knew you would come to us.” She ran her cold finger along the edge of Bucky’s healing neck wound. “Can I tell you a secret?” Bucky shivered and clenched his jaw. Without waiting for an answer, she leaned in. “I think I dreamt you first,” she whispered in his ear. “You were meant for me.” 

Bucky opened his mouth to answer, to deny that he was meant for anyone, especially not her, but he was at a loss for words. He stayed quiet as she changed the dressing and pressed the cup of water once again to his lips. Bucky swallowed the rest of its contents easily and settled back against the mattress. She pressed a soft kiss to his forehead and brushed her fingertips along his cheek one more time before she stood. “Get some sleep, okay? I’ll check on your later.”

He nodded. (Y/N) smiled and Bucky felt his heart flip. The smile sparked a memory of the woods. Her parted lips revealed fangs like the other woman had, but (Y/N)’s were smaller. Less threatening. 

That didn’t change the fact that she was a vampire. Bucky felt the sudden urge to vomit. 

* * *

You closed the door behind you and pressed your back against it, taking an unnecessary deep breath. James had smelled unbelievably good. It had taken most of your willpower not to drain him as soon as you’d lifted his bandage. Not that you wanted to! Not really. He was your meant to be. You weren’t going to kill the one you loved. 

Besides, Katherine would have you flayed if she decided you had hurt him. The thought made you roll your eyes. She had no real right to stake a claim on him. Not when you were the one who had dreamt about him for ages. The Winter Soldier. Your soldier. 

Regardless, she was your mistress, and you had to do what she said. If she said James was hers, then for all intents and purposes, he was hers. 

A spark of rebellion lit in your stomach. It wasn’t fair. Just because she was older than you and had turned you didn’t mean she could order you around!

Well… okay, it definitely did, but you were still independent! You didn’t have to take her shit. You only followed her orders out of obligation. She did give you the gift of eternal life, after all; and whether you admitted it or not, you wouldn’t have gotten James if she didn’t bring him to the castle.

You sighed and straightened, smoothing your dress. You cracked your neck and began your descent down the staircase. Katherine waited in her chair in the parlor, right where you left her. “Well?” she asked in her stupid, haughty voice. God, you hadn’t even had James for more than a day and you were already getting sick of your mistress.

You smiled to smother your thoughts. “He’s a very fast healer,” you informed her, taking your seat next to her. “He seems to have some confusion, but I would attribute that to the blood loss.” 

She nodded in approval. Her eyes brightened and she sighed dreamily. “He tasted so good. Like blackberry and dark chocolate,” Katherine reminisced. “Delectable.” 

If it could’ve, your stomach would’ve rumbled. You cleared your throat. “Yes, well, it’s good you spared him, then. More chances to enjoy.” You kept your eyes trained on the portrait of Katherine above the mantel so she couldn’t see the hate that was probably flaring in your eyes. How dare she talk about him like he was just another meal! She didn’t deserve him, or his probably delicious blood. 

“Oh darling,” she cooed, cuddling up to your side. “Don’t be cross with me. You can have a turn once I’m done with him.” 

Rage bloomed in your chest, but you pushed it down. You took a moment to console yourself before you turned to her, face full of gratitude. “Do you mean it, mistress?” you asked in your best submissive voice. 

Your trick worked. Her expression softened and she squeezed your face, making your lips purse. “Of course, my little lamb,” she said, her voice high with baby talk. “You know I’d do anything for you.” 

You gave her a big smile. “I’d be lost without you,” you told her with as much cheer as you could muster. 

Katherine patted your cheek. “I know, dearest. Run along now,” she said, dismissing you. You quickly left the room, but kept an eye on your mistress. You watched her rise. Your blood began to boil as she drifted towards James’ sick room, and it took a considerable amount of effort to stop yourself from preventing her entrance. The door shut behind her with a resounding thud. 

Your sharp ears picked up the sound of James’ broken scream. Your dead heart shattered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since you’ve been introduced, it’ll probably be from your pov most of the time, with an occasional switch to Bucky’s. Hope you enjoy!!


	3. Chapter 3

The sun set about an hour before you emerged from your coffin, sleepy and very hungry. Not wanting to drain James the moment you saw him, you climbed down the wall of the castle and drifted towards the village nearby. The villagers were not fond of you, even less fond of your mistress, but they seemed to tolerate you both, for the most part. Whether or not they knew of your true nature was unimportant. 

Just so long as they knew their place.

You hummed as you strolled through the streets, smiling at people who passed you by; not caring as they walked a little bit faster. The sky turned to void, not a star in the sky. 

You slipped into a cozy little coffee house and ordered a hot chocolate. The friendly smile you gave the barista was greeted with a recoil. Oh well. You received the hot chocolate in record time.

The minute you stepped out of the shop, you felt like you were being followed. ‘It’s just too easy,’ you thought to yourself. You hid your smile with a sip from your drink and turned down an alley. Whoever was following you continued to pursue you, the presence getting closer. You set your drink carefully on the ground. 

A body pressed up behind you. Within seconds, you had the body pinned against the wall of the alley by the throat. It turned out to be some mediocre looking guy who smelled like cheap whiskey. You sighed. “How incredibly dissatisfying,” you told him. His eyes were filled with fear and confusion, and something probably bordering on arousal. Disgusting.

“I don’t—“ he started to say, but you pressed your hand harder against his windpipe. 

“Oh well,” you sighed. You sunk your teeth into his neck. Blood pulsed from the wound into your waiting mouth. You tried to prevent a mess, but you nicked an artery with the edge of your fang and his life force gushed down your gullet so fast you almost threw up. Within less than a minute, your stomach was full. You tore his shirt and let him hit the ground, using the fabric to wipe your mouth before dropping it onto his now bare stomach. “I hate B negative,” you murmured to yourself as you picked up your drink, sipped it, and glided back to the castle.

You tossed your drink in the trash as you entered the kitchen and nearly ran directly into Katherine. She had recently fed as well, her dark eyes sparkling with a hint of red, her cheeks ruddy when compared to her usual pallor. You grimaced. Katherine got to use your beloved soldier as a personal blood bank, while you had to scrape the village dregs from the bottom of the metaphorical barrel. 

There was no justice in the world. 

“Something wrong, my pet?” Katherine asked, her delicate eyebrow arched at the image of your frown.

“No, mistress,” you said brightly, sidestepping her with a smile. “Just on my way to see James. You know how I worry for him.” 

She nodded with exaggerated sympathy. “Mustn’t get too attached to him,” she purred. “Who knows how long he’ll last.” 

You barely managed to stop yourself from baring your fangs at her. Not that it would intimidate her. Katherine thought you were about as scary as a lamb, and only half as useful. Instead, you graced her with another smile and excused yourself. 

The stairs flew by under your feet. You were at the door to James’ room in less than a second. You knocked, out of courtesy, and pushed it open without waiting for an answer. Judging from the innuendos your mistress made, he probably wouldn’t be able to speak up anyway. 

You shut the door and went to his bedside. He looked terrible. He was so pale, a thin layer of sweat covering him as he shivered violently. You suppressed a growl. Katherine was so going to pay for this. 

To distract from your rage, you busied yourself with gathering medical supplies. Once you attained the items needed, you set to work cleaning James’ new, deeper wound. “No self control,” you muttered to yourself as you rebandaged his neck. 

James shifted and opened his eyes a bit. His gaze was unfocused, but his eyes. His eyes were still that perfect shade of blue that you could swim in for days. “(Y/N)?” he asked softly. Your stomach filled with butterflies. 

“Yes, it’s me,” you answered, gently cupping his cheek. His face flickered into an expression of serenity. It was quickly replaced with one of terror as the gears in his mind started to turn. He backed up from you as much as he could, his eyes flicking from your mouth to your hands. His fear was palpable, and you rushed to soothe him. “It’s okay, I would never hurt you,” you assured him, reaching for him again. “You’re mine.” 

He grimaced. “She said the same thing.” 

“Oh James,” you cooed softly. “Can’t you see that we were meant to be?” He shoulders remained stiff even as he allowed you to set your hand on his metal arm. “Hurting you is the last thing I’d want to do.” 

He ever-so-slowly slid back to his original spot on the bed. His face remained full of suspicion, but he didn’t flinch when you touched his cheek. “I need to get out of here,” said James after a moment. 

A jolt ran through you. “Why on Earth would you need to do that?” You tried not to think about how panicked your voice sounded. 

“I wasn’t meant to be here, (Y/N), I’m supposed to be on a mission.” His jaw set resolutely. 

Your eyes darted across his face as you tried to think of a solution. You couldn’t lose him! Not when you just got him, and especially not when Katherine kept hogging him. “I could go with you!” you suggested suddenly. 

“No, that won’t be necess-“

“Don’t be silly,” you interrupted with a nervous laugh. “Of course it’s necessary. How else will you get better? Are you going to clean your own wound? I don’t think so, James.” He looked like he was about to interrupt so you continued quickly. “Besides, you’re so weak. You need someone to protect you.” You gripped his metal arm. “I could protect you.” 

James glanced at your arm and swallowed hard. “The only thing I need protecting from is you,” he said, his voice wavering slightly. His words felt like a slap in the face. 

“You don’t mean that,” you said, close to tears. “You can’t mean that. We were meant to be.” You started to shake slightly. “I-I dreamt of you. My  _ soldat. _ ”

Anger flared on his beautiful features. “You don’t know anything about me,” he spat. James sat up, fueled by rage. “You think dreaming about someone means you’re fated to be with them? I’ve got news for you, lady. I would never want to be with someone like you.” He made direct eye contact with you. His eyes were filled with hate. “A vampire,” he hissed. 

You backed up, knocking over the chair near his bed in your haste. His hatred rendered your speechless. Your hand flew to cover your mouth so he couldn’t see your fangs. Your eyes shut tight so he couldn’t see the ring of red that constituted your iris. He  _ hated  _ you. The worst part? He was right. Who were you to think he would ever want to be with you? All of it had been wishful thinking, the dreaming of a hopeless romantic. “I’m sorry,” you choked out. You got out of his room as fast as you could. 

Retreating to the comfort of your coffin, you clutched your bat stuffed animal, the one that Katherine had given you as a joke, close to your chest. You shut the lid and buried your face in your pillow, fighting tears. Blood stains were such a pain to get out of the lining of your coffin, it wasn’t worth indulging in the body wracking sobs that could truly express the heart wrenching misery you felt. Instead, you held your bat a little tighter and prayed Katherine wouldn’t bother you for the rest of the night. 

* * *

Bucky felt guilty when he watched you leave the room in such a hurry, and then felt ridiculous for feeling guilty. He had just been honest, albeit meaner than was needed. Not that it really mattered. The other one was probably going to kill him soon anyway. 

A weight settled in his chest. In hindsight, he realized shouldn’t have lashed out at you. Besides the fact that you were probably his best way out of the castle, you had tried to be kind to him. Even if your kindness was really creepy at times. Bucky cringed when he remembered the hurt that flashed in your eyes when he had called you a vampire. Definitely too harsh. 

He sighed. He supposed he’d have to make it up to you, although he didn’t know how he would manage that. Not like he had a lot of resources at his disposal. He hadn’t even moved from the bed very much, and who’s to say you would even visit him again after the way he treated you? 

Bucky raked his hands through his hair. Making it up to you was going to be more difficult than he had first imagined. 


	4. Chapter 4

You still visited James, despite the anger he displayed; if you could call drifting in and out of a room to drop off food and check a bandage, all without making eye contact, a visit. If he even opened his eyes at all. You made sure he was asleep before you entered. It was easy enough. You could hear his heartbeat a mile away. Hearing it through the door was a piece of cake.

You couldn’t face him, not when he so clearly wanted nothing to do with you, but you couldn’t ignore his needs. It hadn’t been that long since you had been human. You knew what it took to keep a mortal alive, and besides, you still loved him. If James died (you shuddered at the very thought) while in your care, due to your own negligence… Your heart would be shattered forever. 

You knew the ways a vampire could die. Your sire taught you as a newborn. Surely, a broken heart was not among them, but you weren’t sure you’d be able to go on, ahem, living.

The longer you avoided him, the worse you felt, physically as well as emotionally. Your stomach tied in knots every time you passed his door. You certainly couldn’t feed! The mere thought of drinking someone’s blood was enough to make you nauseous because you knew it would just solidify James’ hatred for you. The longer you went without eating, the brighter your irises got and the more you had to avoid James so he wouldn’t see. 

Katherine noticed your change in behavior. You were in the library with her when she brought it up, her chair close to yours. “My dearest lamb,” she said, taking your hands in hers. “I’m worried about you.”

She was almost sincere! That’s how you knew you must have looked terrible. 

“No need to worry,” you twittered, trying not to visibly shake. “I’m perfectly fine.” 

Katherine was not convinced. “You haven’t eaten in days,” she said. Her cool hand brushed across your (now gaunt) cheek. “You can’t be ill,” said Katherine, confusion written in her expression. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this to yourself,  _ iubit. _ Is it James?”

Panic seized you. “What? No. Why would it be James? What about James?” You shied away slightly from her touch. 

Your sire frowned. “Do you want to feed from him? I’d rather share than have you starve,” she offered. 

A shudder ran through you. Feed from James? That would be the ultimate pleasure, and ultimately your ruin. His hatred would be permanent if you ever drank his blood. You were sure of it. “I can’t,” you blurted out. “I don’t want to.”

“You don’t want to,” she said slowly. “If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think you had feelings for him.” Her head tilted up in her usual superior way, her brow arched. “I know this is not the case, however. My little lamb in love with a human? Ridiculous. She is much too smart.” 

Your lower lip trembled and red filled your vision as tears began to well up. You wiped your eyes and saw blood against your skin. Dammit. Katherine saw the gesture and raised herself up even more, using her power as your sire to make you cower. “And most certainly she is not in love with a human who hates us for being what we are,” she said, louder now. “For something that we cannot help. For existing.”

“It’s no surprise he hates us,” you retorted, mustering up what little courage you could. “You tear up his neck like it’s nothing and leave him bleeding on the bed for me to bandage!”

Katherine smiled a cruel smile. “Playing nurse has not won his favor either, has it? You can coddle and coo over him all you want, but that doesn’t change the fact that he hates you too,” she said coolly, not missing a beat. Her words were sharper than any knife. “What’s the point, (Y/N)?”

Hearing your name on her lips was like a slap across the face. Kathering usually only called you pet names, saving your name for when she was angry. 

“All you are doing is prolonging the inevitable.”

“You can’t mean that,” you shouted, tears running freely down your face now. You watched the blood drip onto the carpet in a sort of daze. Katherine would make you clean that later. 

“Of course I do,” she said matter-of-factly. “He’s just a silly mortal who was in the right place at the wrong time.”

“I dreamt of him! You dreamt of him!” Your voice shook as you pushed against Katherine’s power, attempting to stand your ground. “We were meant to find him!”

Katherine laughed. “Oh darling,” she sneered. “It’s worse than I thought. You’ve been filling your own head with fairytales! The dreams aren’t real, you silly little girl.”

Your vision was blurred with blood and you quickly wiped it away, feeling faint for a moment. “M-maybe yours weren’t, Katherine, but mine were. He’s meant for me,” you cried. 

Katherine shook her head, almost wearily and stood from her chair, shutting the book in her lap with a clap. “This is utterly ridiculous.” She turned to leave.

“Wh-where are you going?” you asked, panic pumping adrenaline through your veins.

She didn’t answer.

“Katherine,” you insisted. You stood as well, following her. “Where are you going?”

She glanced over her shoulder at you as she swung open the library door. “I’m going to fix the problem,” said Katherine coolly, heading for James’ door. 

* * *

Bucky sat up in bed, wincing slightly due to the healing wound on his shoulder. He felt like his body was covered in bruises. It probably was. That vampire bitch could really do a number on him. At least he was healing fast.

He pulled back the covers and tentatively threw his legs over the side of the bed. He had lost some mass over his stay with the vampires, but for the most part, his legs were trusty. Bucky stood shakily with the help of the bedpost, feeling pleased for the first time in who knows how long. (Y/N), to her credit, kept him fed well enough that he didn’t feel faint when he stood. 

Bucky’s head shot up when he heard sounds of a struggle behind his door. (Y/N)’s voice rang out with a sharp “No!” and there was a crash. A big crash. Bucky felt a jolt of panic up his spine. What if the other one was hurting her? Not much he could do about it in his current state. Wait, why did he care?

He didn’t have to ponder. His door flew open. 

Seeing (Y/N) made him let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. Then, Bucky really took a look at her. Her clothes were covered in dark blood, her eyes wide in terror, some blood even dripping down her cheeks. Her irises were so red they were practically glowing. “James,” she said, voice strained with tears and pleading. “We have to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy! A cliffhanger!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please leave comments, they’re my number one motivation, and basically the reason I wrote another chapter.
> 
> Translation notes:  
> iubit - beloved


	5. Chapter 5

Bucky stood with his jaw on the floor. He couldn’t move. “(Y/N), what happened?” he managed to ask. 

(Y/N) approached him so fast he hardly saw her move and grabbed his flesh arm, pulling him gently to the door. “I’ll explain later, I promise. Just, please,” she said, her bright red eyes tearing up again. Bucky was mildly revolted when he realized her tears were made of blood, but pushed his disgust down, stumbling after her.

As she pulled him out of his room, Bucky was able to get a good look at the rest of his prison. What appeared to have been a sitting room was in shambles. Furniture was overturned. A picture that obviously had hung above the fireplace was on the ground, ripped into ribbons. Upon closer inspection, Bucky could see it had been a portrait of Katherine. “Jesus,” he mumbled. “What—“ He cut himself off. 

They passed the dining room. The table was overturned and broken in half. One of the legs had been snapped in twain, and there, impaled on the side still attached to the table, was Katherine. Her mouth was forever frozen in a startled look of betrayal. Blood steadily leaked from her corpse, creating a big pool on the hardwood floor and draining her until she closely resembled a raisin. (Y/N) avoided looking at her sire and guided Bucky around the pool. Her tears dripped freely down her cheeks and added to the stain on her clothing. 

Bucky chose to remain carefully silent and let her lead him to the kitchen and out the back door. He took a big deep breath. Finally. Fresh air. It was invigorating, and eased the nausea he felt at the brutal sight of Katherine’s body. Even (Y/N) looked better once they left the place. Her tears had stopped, and she’d wiped away the blood on her cheeks. She almost looked normal. Except for her eyes. 

Once they were at a distance (Y/N) deemed far enough away, and they were completely enclosed by trees, (Y/N) sat down heavily on the ground. She curled up into a ball, burying her face in her knees, and became deathly still. Bucky felt extremely uncomfortable. He cleared his throat and sat next to her, his hand hovering over her back. Should he comfort her? He wanted to comfort her. She certainly looked like she needed comfort. 

He withdrew his hand and scratched the back of his head. The movement of his shoulder made him wince. “Uh,” he said loquaciously.

(Y/N) sniffled and raised her head. “I killed her,” she whispered.

“I noticed,” said Bucky.

She looked at him, her eyes glowing slightly in the darkness. It was unnerving. “She was going to kill you and I just—“ A sob escaped her and she buried her face back in her knees. “I couldn’t let her,” she muttered, barely audible. 

Bucky felt a jolt of fear. “Why was she going to kill me?” he asked, as gently as he could. It wasn’t much.

(Y/N) was quiet. She glanced at him. She turned her head. She exhaled, an action Bucky was pretty sure she didn’t need to do. “She realized I was in love with you. She got mad, said I was a ‘silly little girl.’” (Y/N) brought her fingers up in air quotes. Bucky almost laughed. She hiccuped. “I got so scared. It was bad enough that she was hurting you every other night. If I knew I was the reason she killed you, I—“ She broke off into tears, and this time Bucky did comfort her. 

He wrapped his metal arm around her waist and pulled her, a bit rougher than he needed to, against his side. His action startled her enough that she stopped crying and looked up at him with eyes as big as saucers. “James?” she asked.

“Thanks,” he said gruffly. “I guess.” She nodded and sniffled. She looked down. Bucky let out a soft sigh of relief. Her eyes were really starting to freak him out. “How, uh, how’d she know?” 

“I haven’t been eating,” she confessed, her eyes fixed to the ground. “I didn’t want you to hate me more.” The last confession came out in a whisper. Her body curled in on itself again. 

Her words sunk in. “Oh.” What else could he say? Guilt curled in stomach and wrapped around his heart like a vine. 

“And now,” she continued miserably, “the vampire council is going to find me and kill me because of what I did. Killing your sire is sooo against the code.” Her head rolled against his shoulder and she hiccuped again. “Today’s the worst.”

She was kinda like a little girl, Bucky thought. Her actions were almost childish. They tugged at his heart strings and he found himself wrapping his other arm around her as well, holding her against his chest. Bucky grimaced slightly, but she cuddled up to him easily. “I’m sorry, James,” she muttered. “This is all my fault.” 

“Your fault?” Bucky asked in surprise. “Why is it your fault?”

“Katherine can,” she paused slightly and corrected herself, “could read minds. Not that well, but I think that’s how she found out about the dreams. It’s my fault she even knew about you in the first place.” 

Bucky was silent at that. She kinda had a point. He grimaced and mentally nudged himself. It wouldn’t make her feel any better if he blamed her too. “Listen, (Y/N), that’s not your fault. I guess your dreams are prophetic, or whatever?” he asked. She nodded. “Alright, see? It was probably unavoidable. And even if it wasn’t,” he continued, “it is now. So. There.” 

(Y/N) looked up at him with a puzzled sort of smile on her face. It wasn’t a real smile, but hey. It was something, and that was enough to temporarily ease his guilt. “Thank you, James.” She wiggled out of his arms and stood, offering him her hand. “I think we have a few days before anyone finds out about Katherine. Let’s get you back to your mission,” she said as she pulled him to his feet. 

Bucky blinked in surprise. “What?” he asked.

She shrugged, her smile turning sad. “Since I’m going to die anyway, I should make sure you’re safe before hand,” she said softly. “I’d prefer to be killed with a clear conscience,” she joked.

Her kindness shocked him, and then he felt stupid for being shocked. Of course she was kind. She was the one who helped him heal. She killed another vampire for him. She broke her laws for him. “I don’t hate you,” Bucky blurted out, startling her slightly. 

“You— You don’t?” she asked, instantly near to tears again. 

“No,” he said, discomfort causing him to avert his eyes. “I don’t.” 

“Oh James,” she cried out and threw her arms around him. He teetered slightly, nearly tipping over before he caught his balance and wrapped his arms around her in return. He told himself it was out of necessity, but deep down he knew he didn’t mind the hug. It was almost nice. 

“Yeah, well,” he grumbled, carefully detaching her. “No need to get sappy about it. I didn’t say I liked you.” Her eyes shone with joy, and he knew she saw right through his lie.

“I love you, James,” (Y/N) said cheerfully, circling his metal arm with her arms. She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

He was glad it was dark, otherwise she would’ve seen the blush staining his cheeks. She could probably smell it, he thought. Bucky shuddered. “Whatever,” he said. “Let’s get the hell out of Transylvania.” 


	6. Chapter 6

(Y/N) was a vampire with a mission. Not something one often saw. Certainly not something Bucky had ever seen. She moved between trees with shark-like intensity, her eyes trained straight ahead and her hand never letting go of his. It was spooky. This whole thing was spooky. Bucky hated spooky things, but hey, what could he do?

“Uh, (Y/N),” said Bucky, after feeling thoroughly creeped out by her intense silence. “Where are we going?”

“I have to find my spare coffin,” she said, as if that explained everything. Maybe to her, it did. Bucky, who admittedly knew very little about vampires, other than the fact that they were scary, was totally lost. 

“Where’s the spare coffin?” he asked.

She stopped and looked at him, her eyes almost patronizing. “The cemetery,” she said. He could practically hear the unadded ‘duh’. 

“Of course,” said Bucky wearily. “Should’ve guessed.” 

(Y/N) grinned, the sight barely visible to him. The moon was bright, but it was blocked by the thick foliage around them, allowing Bucky to only see every couple of yards. Thank goodness (Y/N) knew where they were going. 

The woods peeled back to reveal a moonlit clearing, and in the center of that clearing was a fence enclosed cemetery. There were a couple mausoleums sprinkled among the numerous headstones. It was much larger than Bucky expected it to be, but the closer they got, the more ragged it looked. Some of the headstones were broken, most were illegible, and the grass hadn’t been cut in who knows how long. A chill ran up Bucky’s spine as (Y/N) pulled the gate open. It was difficult to budge, and as it opened it made a loud creaking noise. Classic.

(Y/N) took his hand again and walked in like it was nothing. She was relaxed, even, like she was at a regular park, and not a place where people buried their dead. 

She made a beeline for a big mausoleum in the back and looked up at the sky in thought. “Wait here, okay?” she asked, turning to look at Bucky. “I have to go around the back.” 

Bucky stiffened. “Please don’t leave me alone,” he pleaded before he could stop himself. 

(Y/N) scrunched up her nose slightly and raised an eyebrow. “I’ll just be gone for a sec. You don’t need to be scared,” she said soothingly. “We’re the only ones here. Everyone from the village that used to own this is dead.” She pressed a gentle kiss to his temple. 

“Thanks,” said Bucky flatly. “That’s very reassuring. How do you know that, by the way? Just curious.” 

“Because,” she replied, her smile falling. “It used to be my village. And Katherine’s the one that killed them.” Then, she glided around the back of the mausoleum, leaving Bucky alone in front of the entrance. 

“Oh great,” he croaked, looking around at the grave markers that surrounded the mausoleum, as if he could see a name that matched hers. It was then Bucky realized he didn’t know her full name. For some reason, this unsettled him. More than he was already unsettled. 

The door to the mausoleum rumbled as it opened, startling Bucky hard enough that he jumped back and stumbled over a grave. He hit the ground with a heavy thump, the air getting knocked out of his lungs. Once the air came back, he groaned, looking up to see (Y/N)’s concerned face leaning over him. Her eyes were still freaky bright, but they seemed to have dimmed some. She carefully helped him up and dusted him off. “James,” she said, obviously hiding a giggle, “You’re so silly.” 

“I’m silly?” he asked indignantly. “I am not silly.” 

“No,” she corrected, this time laughing. “Of course you’re not. C’mon.” She took his hand and lead him into the mausoleum, shutting the door heavily behind them. The place was stone, chilly, and smelled very heavily of decomposing flowers. “You look a little green,” (Y/N) commented, tucking his hair behind his ear. “Imagine how I feel.” She leaned closer and tapped the side of her nose knowingly. 

“Yeah, that’s gotta be hell,” he agreed, avoiding her eyes. With a sweep of his eyes, he easily spotted what he guessed to be her spare coffin. A heavy looking stone cover was moved to reveal a dusty-looking cloth lining. Bucky gagged when he noticed a dead rat inside. “Tell me you’re not going to sleep in that.”

“I don’t have much of a choice,” she said, forcing brightness into her voice. “Besides, this was my first bed as a vampire. It can be cozy if you don’t breathe.” (Y/N) sighed and picked up the recently deceased rodent, tossing it towards the wall that was covered in the names of, presumably, the other deceased members of her family. 

“Gross,” he muttered. Bucky’s eyes were drawn to the small windows near the ceiling. He blanched slightly. “Isn’t that…” he trailed off.  _ Deadly? _ his mind supplied. Yeah. 

She shook her head. “Don’t worry about me, James.” She patted the stone cover almost fondly. “This won’t let even a speck of light in. I’ll be fine,” (Y/N) reassured him. Her expression turned almost shy. “There’s not like another bed in here or a chair, so if you wanted to, we could uh.” She murmured something unintelligible.

“What?” Bucky asked, stepping closer. 

“We could,” she trailed off again, her fingers steepling nervously. “We could share the tomb, if you wanted.” 

Bucky’s initial reaction was ‘not a shot in hell’, but he held back. That would just lead down a road of insults, and he didn’t want to hurt her feelings again. “Uh,” he stalled. “No, that’s uh, that’s okay.” He swallowed hard. “Thank you, though,” he added hastily when she started to look distressed. “I’ll keep watch, just in case. Since you’ll be dead asleep and everything.”

“Oh James, you’re so thoughtful,” she sighed happily, pressing a cold kiss to his cheek. He tried not to cringe. “I didn’t even think of that. You’re so smart,” she cooed. 

Her praise made his chest puff out a little. (Y/N) ran her chilly hand along his cheek and smiled up at him. His heart beat faster, but not from fear. He hardly even noticed her fangs. What was happening to him? “Thanks,” said Bucky. “I’ll wake you up when the sun goes down.”

Her eyes flicked to the bandage on his neck and her eyebrows furrowed. “Tomorrow,” she started strongly, “we’ll go to the village and I’ll see what I can scrounge up for us, okay? I’m sure there’s supplies left.” 

He nodded mutely. She nodded in return and pressed one more kiss to his cheek before she glided over to the tomb. (Y/N) lowered herself inside, a slight sneer of disgust on her face, and easily moved the stone cover, effectively locking herself inside. Bucky exhaled and leaned against the wall by the door. This whole situation was much too spooky for him. He was gonna have to go to therapy once he got home. If he got home. 

Bucky set his jaw. Of course he would get home. With (Y/N)’s help, he’d find Steve, and they’d get out of Transylvania together. He jolted when he realized he included (Y/N) as a part of that equation. It was only natural, right? She did technically save his life and all. He had to make sure she was safe. 

Bucky needed her to be safe. He just didn’t realize why yet. 


	7. Chapter 7

You exhaled heavily when you shut the cover of the tomb. Hunger pains curled in your stomach like a viper and you groaned. You needed to eat and soon. It was almost too much to be near James. Even through the thick stone of the tomb, you could hear the dull thud of his heart. Despite yourself, you salivated. Thank goodness for the musty mausoleum smell. It just managed to overpower the smell of the stained blood on his bandage. You had to find a solution, and be quick about it, otherwise the hunger could take over. It would be like you were a newborn again. You shuddered to remember that time, when the only thing you could focus on was feeding and the euphoria it brought. 

You quickly changed your line of thinking. At the very least, he seemed more at ease around you. He tolerated your touches, and when he had hugged you to comfort you, you’d nearly fainted. It was exhilarating. You were amazed by how warm he was. It was like hugging a plush furnace. 

You giggled. You were so lucky to have James in your life, even if it was only for a little while longer. Despite the tragedy that had befallen you, or rather your sire, you wouldn’t change a thing. The knowledge that he sat guard outside your crypt was enough to bring a smile on your face.

As the sun rose, your death sleep beckoned, tugging on your consciousness like a rope. The last thing you thought of before you were out was James. 

* * *

You woke up ravenous. You could easily smell James through the tomb, his scent permeating the stone as he knocked upon it, signaling safety. You dead heart nearly pulsed. He kept to his word. 

You did your best to stifle your hunger as you swept the crypt cover to the side and sat up with a stretch. James watched you with a quizzical look that morphed into discomfort when you truly looked at him. “(Y/N), your eyes,” he said, backing up slightly. “They’re glowing. Like. More than usual.”

“I’m so hungry,” you lamented. You rose easily from your coffin and slid the cover to its original position. You bit your lip and jumped slightly. Your fang had punctured your skin. You didn’t realize that they had slid out. It was worse that you thought. 

You could feel how nervous James was. You longed to reassure him, but with the way your stomach clenched, you weren’t sure you could reassure anyone. Not even yourself.

“James,” you said as steadily as you could. “I need you to stay here for a few minutes, okay?”

That set his nerves even more on edge. “Why?” he asked. You were sure he was giving you a look, but you couldn’t bear to meet his eyes. 

“Because. I said so.” You glided to the door of the mausoleum. “Don’t move, okay? I’ll be back.” 

You barely heard his reply as you rushed out of the mausoleum and headed for the woods. The trees enveloped you, welcoming you back. You paused and let your hunger take over. It begged you to go back to James. You could still smell him. You refused, obviously, so it focused on the next best thing. A buck strode through the trees a few meters to the north. 

It was almost too easy.

You wiped your mouth as you stood over the fallen deer and thanked its drained carcass for his service. Your hunger was mostly satiated, although animal blood never really got the job done. It wouldn’t be like drinking from James, for instance. You exhaled loudly. Thoughts like that didn’t help anyone, you scolded yourself. There was no way James would like you if you only looked at him as a meal.

James jumped when you appeared in the doorway of the mausoleum, and relaxed just as quickly when he saw it was you. You were pretty sure your eyes weren’t glowing anymore. That relaxed him too. “Ready to go?” you chirped. 

“Yeah, sure,” he replied, rolling his shoulders. James cringed slightly. You went over to him and put your hand on his shoulder.

“Are you in pain?” you asked worriedly. You could feel the heat radiating through his clothing, and not the good kind of heat. His joints were a bit swollen, and his neck looked stiff. 

Still, he shook his head, denying your question. “I’m fine,” said James. He took your hand without looking at you. “Let’s just go. This place is starting to freak me out.” 

Despite your heart being unable to beat, you could’ve sworn you felt it stutter. “O-Of course.” You swallowed and gently squeezed his hand, leading him from the mausoleum, out of the cemetery, and towards your old village. 

* * *

Time had been kind to your old village. It was almost exactly how you remembered it, with the exception of the flora that had prospered in the absence of people. It was overgrown, yet more lovely than it ever had been. Wild flowers grew everywhere and thick vines of ivy curled up the side of small cottages. You could sense life everywhere. 

James shifted and nudged you with his shoulder. You had been still for too long. You could tell it was freaking him out. “You okay?” he asked, the question rumbling low in his chest. 

“Fine,” you said, voice cracking slightly. You hastily wiped at your eyes. “It’s beautiful.”

James scanned your surroundings for the second time. “If you say so, (Y/N).”

You smiled. Of course he couldn’t see what you did. Human eyes, even enhanced human eyes, could never capture the beauty that yours could. “It’s okay, James. Maybe you’ll be able to tell in the morning,” you said. You squeezed his hand, and, to your delight and surprise, he squeezed it back. 

You walked hand-in-hand with James down the main street, neat rows of cottages on either side leading you towards the main square. For a wistful moment, you could almost imagine what it would have been like if James had courted you during your human life. You took a moment to press a kiss on his cheek, and watched as he blushed. He was too cute. 

“What’d you do that for?” he grumbled, but he didn’t sound ungrateful.

You beamed. “I was just thinking,” you told him.

“About what?”

“You, of course,” you said with a laugh. “I’m always thinking about you.”

“Jeez, (Y/N),” he said, shyly rubbing the back of his neck. “You seem extra sappy today.”

You nodded. “I think I’m just happy to be home again,” you sighed. 

James seemed to understand and ceased questioning you. Instead, he looked a bit more carefully at the buildings around you, like he wanted to appreciate it, too.

You stepped into the main square and a wave of nostalgia washed over you. The clock tower stood at the far end, the clock stopped but nonetheless imposing. The shops from your childhood lined the square, including your parents’ tailor shop on the right side. You were unable to stop the tears that had been threatening to spill for so long. 

James was alarmed. “Jesus, are you okay, (Y/N)?” he asked, turning your face to face him. 

You sniffled and smiled sadly at him. “I’m okay, James.” You gently pushed his hand away and took a deep breath, letting yourself feel for a moment. Grief and longing intertwined in your chest, causing more tears to flow. As you walked towards your parents’ shop, you realized it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that your parents’ lives had been cut short. It wasn’t fair that Katherine had stole the lives of everyone in the village, including your own. It wasn’t fair that you had been taken in your prime and turned into a monster. It wasn’t fair that for the first time, you had taken control of your own fate, and soon you’d be dead because of it. You hiccuped. There was no justice in the world. 

You sat on the stoop of the shop and sobbed, letting a final wave of mourning crash through you before the tears ebbed. James seemed incredibly uncomfortable and stood before you, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were trained on the sign above you instead of on you. He was most likely just unable to look at you, but you liked to think he was trying to give you privacy while still being there for you. 

“Thank you,” you said, startling him. 

“I didn’t do anything,” replied James, uncertainty clear in his voice. 

“You’re here.” You stood and wiped your tears, going over to him. “You’re here and you don’t have to be, but you are.” 

He grunted. “Yeah, well. I don’t know where else to go, so I guess you’re stuck with me.” 

You circled your arms around his neck and pressed another kiss to his cheek. Predictably, he blushed. “Yeah,” you said with a bright smile. “I guess I am.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response to this fic has been much better than I expected, so thank you!! I really enjoy writing this, but comments make me enjoy it even more.
> 
> Hope you like what is to come!!


	8. Chapter 8

Breaking into the shop was easy. The door had been left unlocked, so all Bucky had to do was turn the knob and push. The door swung open without a sound and Bucky exhaled. Despite the fact that the shop was deserted, it felt homey. Lived in, almost. (Y/N) breezed past him, familiar with the terrain. Bucky followed her slowly. He took his time looking around, scanning the empty shop as he would any other seemingly vacant room. His sharp eyes did not catch any movement and his shoulders released a bit of their tension. 

(Y/N) rifled around in a trunk behind the shop counter. While she searched, she muttered to herself. Bucky got close enough to make out what she was saying; (Y/N) was listing out supplies she needed, comparing the words to objects she pulled from the chest. She appeared to be getting increasingly frustrated. 

“Everything okay?” Bucky asked, leaning against the counter top. 

She turned her red-eyed gaze on him and didn’t reply, quickly going back to searching. 

Okay then. Bucky cleared his throat and tried again. “Anything you want me to look for?”

“The apartment’s up the stairs in the back,” she said without looking up again. “Could you go see how it looks?” 

“Sure,” Bucky replied. It took him awhile to find the stairs. (Y/N)’s instructions hadn’t exactly been clear. They were tucked in the very back of the shop, between what looked like a store room and perhaps some sort of dressing room. It was hard to tell when there was no light. The wooden stairs creaked loudly as Bucky stepped onto them, and for a moment he was afraid they wouldn’t hold. He held his breath as he tested the next step. It held. Without incident, Bucky took the stairs two at a time, exhaling once he was safely on the landing in front of the apartment door. 

Getting into the apartment proved to be more difficult than the shop door had been. Bucky really didn’t want to break the door down. His shoulders ached at the very thought. Besides, the apartment used to be (Y/N)’s home. He couldn’t disrespect it like that. 

After a bit of scrambling, Bucky found a key above the door frame and unlocked the door with a gentle click. Once unlocked, it swung open as easily as the shop door had. 

Bucky cringed when he saw the interior. Furniture was overturned, the carpet on the floor was in tatters, and it appeared that the kitchen had been victim to a fire. The walls were blackened and an ancient-looking pan sat abandoned on the stove. Bucky grimaced. The shop probably looked as good as it had because the struggle had taken place upstairs. 

He got to work returning furniture to the upright position. No need to remind (Y/N) of that night by keeping things a mess, he reasoned with himself. He was sure it was hard enough as it was. 

Bucky almost laughed as he righted the coffee table. What a fool he was. If he didn’t know better, he almost would have thought he legitimately cared about his captor. 

_ Is she really your captor? _ a voice in the back of his head nagged.

Of course she was. The only reason Bucky had been taken at all was because of (Y/N), and her stupid, prophetic dreams. 

_ Then why are you still with her? _

Well, that was the million dollar question, wasn’t it?

Bucky shook his head and plopped down in an armchair, exhaling loudly. Obviously, he was still around her because she knew how to get him back to civilization. 

_ And she saved your life, _ the voice reminded him.

He grunted. He wouldn’t have needed his life saved if the other vampire hadn’t kidnapped him in the first place, now would he?

The voice remained quiet, and Bucky felt a moment of triumph. 

“How’s it look?” (Y/N) asked, suddenly appearing in the doorway. Bucky jumped about three feet in the air and let out a rather shrill scream. “Oh, sorry,” she said with a grin, completely unapologetic. “Did I scare you?”

“Jesus Christ, (Y/N),” Bucky said once he had stopped screaming. “Give a guy a little warning next time,” he pleaded. 

Her smile turned cheeky. “No, I don’t think I will.” (Y/N) glided by his chair and ran her hand through his hair. She continued past him, towards a hallway on the far side of the room. “Did you check the bedrooms yet?”

“No,” said Bucky, standing to follow her. “Not yet. I was fixing the furniture.”

“You’re so sweet,” she cooed, glancing at him over her shoulder. In the darkness of the hallway, all he could see was her eyes. Bucky shuddered, but kept at her heels. 

The first door she opened was a child’s room. A crib sat vacant against the right wall, near a window. A sturdy looking wardrobe stood against the opposite wall. Next to it, a faded rocking horse, painted in warm colors that had once been brilliant. (Y/N) let out a weary sigh. 

“Did you have siblings?” Bucky asked after a moment of thick silence. 

“I did,” she confirmed, before exiting and opening the next door. Plain was the best word Bucky could use to describe it. Nothing on the walls, no knick knacks to signify a personality. The only inhabitants were a wardrobe, a bedside table that held an empty vase, and, much to Bucky’s surprise, a thoroughly shredded bed. 

“Wow,” Bucky breathed. “That looks horrible.” 

“My bed,” lamented (Y/N), falling on her knees near the torn sheets and mattress. “I loved this bed.”

Bucky was surprised. “This was your room?” he asked, looking around with a keener eye. “Doesn’t feel like you.” 

(Y/N) sniffled. “I shared with my younger sister,” she said, misery edging on her tone. “The only way we wouldn’t argue was if it was completely neutral.” Her voice was quiet, and almost fond. 

Bucky shifted uncomfortably. She was obviously approaching nostalgia territory, and Bucky really didn’t think he could handle it at that moment. “How about we check out the last one, huh?” he asked, hoping to raise her from the funk she settled in. 

She rose from her knees and approached him, watching him carefully for a moment before wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his chest. Bucky stiffened. 

She was actively seeking comfort from him. That was new. The hesitation she had displayed was new as well. Bucky swallowed hard and gently patted her back. (Y/N) tightened her grip slightly, nuzzling his chest before looking up at him. Bucky’s heart skipped a beat. Tension zapped between them like static electricity. Was she going to kiss him? She stood on her tiptoes. Bucky swallowed hard, shut his eyes, and waited. 

(Y/N) pressed her customary kiss to his cheek and separated from him, rushing past him into the hallway. For a moment, Bucky felt like his head was spinning. His hand went up to his cheek, pressing against the spot her lips touched. Once his head cleared, he realized two things. One, she hadn’t kissed him on the lips like he thought she would. Two, if she had, Bucky wouldn’t have minded. 

He was, perhaps, a fool. 

“James,” (Y/N) called, drawing him from his thoughts back to the real world. Bucky followed the sound and found her in the last bedroom. It was larger than the others. There was a dressing table, covered in all sorts of jars and bottles, some half empty, others brand new. The bed was large and plush looking, and the wardrobe stood open, showing a mix of dresses and pants. “This was my parents’ room,” she supplied, running her hand fondly over the vanity table. 

“I guessed,” he mumbled. Bucky watched her closely as she seemed to study herself in the mirror, an unfamiliar grimace decorating her pretty face. Whoa, pretty? When did he decide she was pretty? 

(Y/N)’s eyes met his and she cocked her head. “Are you alright, James?”

“Just peachy,” he replied. Avoiding her searching gaze, he went over to the bed and plopped down on it. She shrugged and went back to looking at herself. When Bucky peered over, he saw nothing reflected but the room. 

She ceased her inspection of herself, looking frustrated. “Close your eyes,” she instructed as she went over to the wardrobe. 

“What?” Bucky asked, sitting up. “Why?” 

(Y/N) looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Because, James, I’m about to change clothing,” she said slowly. “And I don’t know that I’m particularly ready for you to see me naked just yet.” 

Bucky turned beet red, embarrassment curling up his neck and making him swallow. “R-Right, sorry, (Y/N),” he mumbled and covered his face with a pillow. He was an idiot. 

He could hear the soft woosh of the zipper and the sound of her dirtied dress hitting the floor. Eventually, she gave the okay for him to open his eyes. Her new dress was a nightgown that hit her knees and, frankly, did not leave a ton to the imagination. It wasn’t sheer, per say, but it certainly wasn’t opaque. 

(Y/N) shifted nervously in front of him and bit her lip. The longer he stared at her, the more nervous she became. “Do you like it?” she blurted. 

“Uh,” he said, his brain at full stop. 

“You don’t, do you? God, I’m so stupid,” she said, near to tears. 

“No no no,” he rushed out, standing from the bed. “No, I do. You look,” he paused to swallow, “you look. Swell.” Swell? That was the best he could do?? He groaned internally. 

Luckily, she didn’t care. “Thank you, James,” she said gratefully. “I picked you out some PJs too, if you want.” (Y/N) handed him a set of striped pajamas. “You’re vaguely my father’s size. I don’t think the shirt will fit, but the pants should,” she explained. “I’ll be right back, okay?” Before he had time to answer, she floated from the room, leaving him alone to change. 

It felt good to change out of his ragged mission gear. Afterall, that’s what he had been captured in, and no one had thought to give him anything else. Bucky sighed. He’d kill for a shower, but that was something to think about later. 

He slid on the pj pants first. They were tight around his thighs, but otherwise fine. The shirt was a different story. (Y/N) was right. It just barely managed to fit over his arms, but it refused to button. Bucky sighed and slid it off, letting it hit the ground before he settled on the bed. He was waiting for (Y/N) to return without even realizing it. 

When she did return, her arms were laden with goods and she had a big grin on her face. Her smile was infectious, and Bucky found himself smiling as well. 

“Perks of living with tailors is a surplus of fabric. We’ll be able to change your bandage on the road,” she chirped. Her cold hands carefully detached Bucky’s current bandage. She winced just as he did. “Sorry,” she murmured, “I wish I had changed this before we left.”

“S’all right,” Bucky said through gritted teeth. He held still while (Y/N) attached the new, makeshift bandage, and watched her. “We had to leave in a hurry.” 

She went ‘hmph’ and turned to the rest of her pile, offering him a jar of honey. Bucky eyed it warily and looked up at her with an eyebrow raised. (Y/N) rolled her eyes. “I know, I know,” she said. “But it’s the best I could do. It’s been ages since anyone’s lived here, and honey never expires, so I thought. Y’know. Better than nothing.” 

It was Bucky’s turn to ‘hmph’. He took the jar and opened it, sniffing cautiously. It smelled fine enough. “Go on,” (Y/N) urged. “Eat a little something. That’s all I have for you right now, and we’ve got a long night tomorrow.” 

“We do?” Bucky asked.

(Y/N) nodded. “It’s about 45 miles to the nearest inhabited town. Even with my speed, it’ll take a while,” she explained. She paused a moment to think. “And since I haven’t eaten in a while, I may be slower.” 

She began packing supplies for the trip. While she assembled things, Bucky used his fingers swipe some honey from the jar and eat it. It was sweet, but not that filling. “Wait a second, how am I supposed to keep up with you?” he asked. He ate another scoop of honey. 

“Easy,” she said. “I’ll carry you.” 

“Carry me?” Bucky sat up in alarm. “How the hell—?”

(Y/N) laughed. “James. You’re not the heaviest thing I’ve ever carried. I had to carry my own coffin to Katherine’s castle. I think I’ll be fine.” 

Bucky grumbled. “What’s the deal with the whole coffin thing, anyway? Do you have to sleep in one?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s just the most comfortable. I could feasibly sleep anywhere. I can even sleep standing up,” she stated proudly. 

“Wow,” said Bucky. “Impressive.” He reclined on the bed. “What are you going to do tonight?”

(Y/N) hesitated slightly, her fingers steepling together as they had the other night. Oh God. Bucky swallowed hard in anticipation. “Would you mind if we shared the bed?” she asked timidly. 

Bucky balked at her for a moment. “But. The sun,” he said, framing it more like a question than a statement. Both of their eyes went to the window. It was covered by a curtain, but Bucky didn’t know how that could help. 

“Well, as long as I stay out of direct sunlight, I’ll be okay,” she said. Nerves were evident in her tone as she added a barely audible, “I think.” 

“You think?” Bucky asked incredulously. 

“Well, one time I saw Katherine go out in the sun! Sorta. She had a sun hat and was all covered up, but she did it,” (Y/N) explained, going to the window to see the state of the curtains. They were a bit moth-eaten, but otherwise thick. 

Bucky exhaled heavily. “I dunno, (Y/N), this seems too risky.”

“Please, James?” She crawled onto the bed and knelt next to him, taking his hand. “I can’t sleep alone in this place,” she said, obviously near to tears. “Please, just this once.” 

Unintentionally, his gaze flicked to the neckline of her nightgown and he got an unexpected eyeful of smooth skin. Bucky’s eyes quickly fixed on her face again. He was sure a blush spread down to his neck. “I-I really don’t think this is a good idea,” he said shakily. 

(Y/N) looked heartbroken. His heart strings were easily tugged upon, both by the look and the pleading, and he sighed. “But. If it’s what you want,” he amended. “Go for it.” 

She squealed and launched herself at him, her arms wrapping easily around his neck in an embrace. As a result, she had deposited herself into his lap. His hand landed instinctively on her thigh, but he was quick to remove it. Bucky was sure the embrace was meant innocently, and he intended to keep it that way. She pressed several cold kisses to his cheek, sending shivers through him. 

Soon enough, (Y/N) settled on the bed, insistent that Bucky spoon her. He was extremely aware of how thin her nightgown was. The chill of her skin easily permeated the fabric, and Bucky felt inclined to pull her closer and warm her up. He resisted the urge. 

The beginnings of sunrise could be seen through the moth holes in the curtains. Bucky grimaced. (Y/N) had found sleep easily, but it was not so for Bucky. Instead, he was kept awake by the cold body tucked against his, and the fear that she’d be dust if he didn’t keep an eye on her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Working in honey, bed sharing, and vampire lore into a single chapter? I’ve really outdone myself with this one folks.
> 
> Thank you for your comments! They are fuel to my mind fire, and oh so appreciated <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one’s a little bit spicy, folks.

You woke up to darkness, as you usually did. Unusually, your coffin was very soft, fitting the contours of your body. As the setting sun slowly pulled you from your sleep, you became more aware of your surroundings. Strong arms were draped over your waist. A breathing body pressed against your back, allowing you to feel each rise and fall of its chest. You felt warm for the first time in ages. Wait a minute, your coffin couldn’t fit two people! You tried to wriggle out of the strong arms, but they kept you firmly in place. The more you squirmed, the tighter they held you. You huffed and, resigned to your fate, pressed back against your bedfellow.

Recognition dawned on you as the last bit of your death-sleep cleared from your brain. You certainly were not in your coffin. The events of the last two days came back to you. That had to mean…

You turned your head and confirmed your suspicions. A shirtless, sleeping James held you, and had held you the whole day while you slept. You returned to your lying position and swallowed hard. This was not a position you expected to be in. Ever. It was almost too good to be true.

James shifted and nuzzled into your hair. His hips pressed against your rear, and oh. Oh. If you could breath, you’d be hyperventilating.

Here you were, in a comfortable bed, with the love of your life, who had his very-obvious erection pressed against your behind. Were you dreaming? You pinched yourself. Nope. Not dreaming.

Had the vampire council found you and killed you? Had you died? Were you deemed worthy of heaven? It certainly felt like heaven.

James held you closer and mumbled in his sleep, his breath hot on your shoulder. You reckoned second death wouldn’t feel as real as he did.

Okay, okay. You had to get a hold of yourself. Play it cool, as it were. You were sure James was not aware of his actions, so there was no reason to make a big deal out of it. You shifted slightly, hoping to wiggle away for real this time.

James let out a breathy moan.

Okay! Okay! You definitely had to go. This was too much, too fast, and you felt like you were about to shatter into a million pieces. You carefully pried his arms apart and rolled to the edge of the bed. You watched as his body bent towards you, attempting to follow. “So sweet,” you whispered in awe.

James seemed to realize you weren’t there anymore. His big blue eyes slowly opened, his arms reaching towards you. “(Y/N),” he mumbled.

“I’m right here, James,” you said, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way your breath hitched.

He smiled lazily and shut his eyes again. It was a few minutes before he seemed to actually wake up. When he sat up, he yawned. When he yawned, he stretched, and the sound he made as he stretched, combined with the way his body flexed had you salivating.

“Sleep well?” you asked in an attempt to distract yourself.

“I guess,” he murmured.

You weren’t distracted. Actually, you felt worse, because his voice was really gravelly and sexy, because you know. He just woke up!

“Oh good,” you twittered nervously. You stood and inched towards the door.

“Where are you going?” he asked, a hint of sleepy desperation in his voice.

Christ on a candle, how were you supposed to handle him like this? He was utterly irresistible.

You went to his side, and immediately wished you hadn’t. His scent permeated your very being and when he smiled sleepily at you, it was just too much. Hunger curled in your belly, along with something else. Something you hadn’t felt in a long time. You couldn’t help what you did next.

You sank into his lap and kissed him. Hard. Your hands rested on his shoulders and you shifted, straddling him. Your nightgown was pushed up your thighs to your hips. You could feel James’ heat through the thin fabric as your chests pressed together.

There was a moment of stillness, and then he was kissing you back, his hands on your hips, just above where the fabric scrunched up. A thrill went up your spine. His lips were soft and eager to please. Maybe you really had died.

James tugged your hips closer until you could feel his hardness through the sleep pants. You pressed your pelvis down and gasped against his lips. He groaned, and you just about passed out.

Without realizing it, your fangs had unsheathed. The razor sharp point nicked his lower lip, drawing blood easily to the surface. Your ran your tongue over the wound and your pupils expanded to their full size. The taste was even better than Katherine described. Sweet and salty, a hint of metal. Dark chocolate. Sea salt. Raspberry.

You flung yourself off his lap and pressed your back against the far wall, shaking violently.

“(Y/N)?” James asked, standing quickly.

“Don’t,” you warned. “Don’t come any closer, James. Please.”

“I don’t—“ He cut himself off as he tasted the blood that wept from the pin prick on his lip. Realization dawned on him. “Oh.”

There was a pause. “I’m sorry, I—“ he started.

You had to laugh. A strained giggle erupted from your chest. “James,” you interrupted. “I just attacked you, and you’re the one apologizing?”

He shifted uncomfortably. “I wouldn’t call it an attack,” he mumbled.

Pure affection overcame you, pushing down your hunger for a moment. You nearly teared up. Still, you did not move from the wall. “Aren’t you scared, James?” you asked softly. “I could have lost control. I almost did,” you informed him.

There was fear in his eyes, but he stepped closer anyway. “I think—“ He paused to consider his words. “I think if you were going to lose control, you would have lost it already,” he said, rather confidently. He took another step closer.

You shook your head, but didn’t stop him. “That’s silly. That’s a stupid, silly thought, James Barnes,” you told him, voice wavering as he took another step towards you. “I’m the thing that scares you most in the world.”

“I can’t deny that,” he told you, stepping close enough that were nearly chest to chest. “Maybe that’s what I like about you.”

“Yeah?” you breathed.

“You know, people say you should conquer your fears,” James purred.

Just like that, he cleared up all the tension and anxiety you felt. You giggled. “Is that a pickup line, James? Are you hitting on me?”

He smiled, the first genuine smile you’d ever seen him give you. “Maybe.” For a moment, you could see the man he was before Katherine had taken him. Before he’d come to Transylvania. It made your heart ache.

You hummed and went around him to the wardrobe. You threw him a pair of trousers and the biggest shirt you could find. “Get dressed, you big tease. We’ve got quite a journey to go on, and I’ve got to find something to eat that’s not you.”

He caught the clothes easily and grumbled something about you being the tease, not him.

You grinned, kissed his cheek, and breezed out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much like the reader, I couldn’t help myself. I managed to make it 8 chapters without these crazy kids kissing. New record for me. Sorry for those looking for slow burn!
> 
> Anyway, hope you like! Comments fuel me! Love ya! 💋


	10. Chapter 10

“James.” (Y/N)’s voice swam around his head, dipping and weaving until it was right next to his ear. Bucky shook his head slightly and dug his finger in his ear. (Y/N) was downstairs in the shop part of the building, yet she sounded as if she was right next to him. She called his name again, and again, her voice drifted into his ear like a cloud of smoke. 

“Fucking vampires,” Bucky muttered. He grimaced at his reflection in the bedroom vanity and ran his hands uselessly through his greasy hair. He had to admit, the beard wasn’t terrible. Bucky stroked his cheek thoughtfully. Could use a trim though. Maybe if they got lucky, there’d be a barber shop in the next town. 

“James!” (Y/N)’s voice was more insistent.

“Be down in a sec!” he called back. With his shirt buttoned as much as it could be, he tucked it in and shouldered his suspenders. Once again, he grimaced at his reflection. Bucky’s metal arm was thankfully covered by the shirt sleeve, but without gloves, his metal hand was still very much visible. The clothes reminded him of his younger days in New York. He felt old. 

(Y/N) appeared in the doorway, sick of waiting for him. “Are you okay?” she asked, joining him at the mirror. His reflection remained solitary. 

“I’m fine,” he assured her. Her hand slipped easily into his metal one. (Y/N) seemed unbothered by his vibranium appendage. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Bucky blinked. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t realize.” 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, concern evident in her voice. (Y/N) gently brushed his hair out of his face and tucked it behind his ear. The domesticity of the action made Bucky nervous. 

He let go of her hand and cleared his throat. “Yep. Ready to go?” His forced cheerfulness made her eyes narrow, but she nodded anyway. 

“Been waiting on you,  _ soldat _ ,” she teased. (Y/N)’s hand grabbed for his again, and then she was pulling him downstairs. “Here, I found a coat for you. It’s going to snow tonight.” She offered him a nice looking leather duster that somehow fit him perfectly. 

“How do you know?” Bucky asked, admiring the coat. 

“No animals out right now,” she said, a slight whine in her voice. “They’re all holed up in their cozy little caverns.” 

“Did you get to eat?”

(Y/N) waved away his question. “I’m fine. Let’s go. We’re losing moonlight,” she told him. She was much more serious than Bucky had ever seen her. It made him antsy. 

“Will you be able to make it?” He didn’t mean to let on how nervous he was, but he saw the way she bit her lip and knew that he’d made her doubt herself. “You know what? It’ll be fine.” Bucky crossed the room to the door and swung it open. “Let’s go.” 

* * *

Being carried was not the most unpleasant sensation Bucky had ever felt. His stomach was in a constant loop of somersaults, but (Y/N)’s grip never wavered, despite the fact she was going a solid 30 miles an hour. That’s what Bucky guessed, at least. It was hard to tell when he had his face buried in her hair to prevent the endless flurry of snowflakes from getting into his eyes. He was incredibly thankful for the jacket (Y/N) found. It wasn’t warm, but it kept his body heat in and the cold air out, and that was good enough for Bucky. 

About halfway through the journey, (Y/N) stopped. “We’re about halfway there,” she informed him, carefully setting him down in the cover of the trees. “I need to eat. If I eat, we can get there faster. Stay here, okay?”

Bucky had no time to respond. She was gone in a blink. 

Bucky shifted from foot to foot and began to wipe snow off of his jacket. Anxiety crept up his stomach to his throat. He pushed it down. He had to relax. Be chill. She was just going to grab a bite. He laughed at his own joke. Bite. Cause she’s a vampire. Good one. 

Okay, he was losing his mind. Being alone in unfamiliar woods was not great for his psyche. Especially since the last time that happened, he was kidnapped by vampires. 

“Cut it out,” he murmured to himself. 

“Who are you talking to?” 

Bucky startled and whirled around. (Y/N) wiped her mouth as she walked towards him with a smile. “Really, (Y/N), you’ve got to stop scaring me like that,” Bucky pleaded. “One day, I’ll have a heart attack and it’ll be because of you.”

She laughed. He could see her fangs had yet to retract. “I didn’t realize you were so dramatic,” cooed (Y/N) as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Bucky’s eyes were drawn to her fangs again. He shied away slightly. 

“Usually I’m not. Steve’s always been the dramatic one,” he said. “But I can’t help it when you’re always making me jump about three feet in the air.”

(Y/N) laughed again. Her fangs were retracted this time, shrunken down to their usual, still-pointy size. “I’m sorry, James. It’s in my nature to sneak,” she told him, looking up at him with big eyes. “But if it makes you feel better, I’ll be noisy. Crack sticks to alert you of my movement, that kind of thing. Rustle some leaves, perhaps?” 

“Much better,” Bucky said with a smile. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her a little closer. “You ate?”

“Mhm.” She leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. If his cheeks weren’t already ruddy from the cold, he would have surely blushed. “I should be good until we get to town.” 

“Where you can have a real meal?” he blurted out, unable to keep the question in his mind. 

An uneasy silence passed between them. (Y/N) looked uncomfortable. She stepped away. “A girl can’t live on squirrels alone, James,” she said softly. “I tried for a while, but.” She shook her head. “Whatever. C’mon,” said (Y/N), her voice steely. Taking his hand, she brought him out of the forest onto the path, and scooped him up bridal-style in one quick motion. 

(Y/N) was going significantly faster than before, but Bucky knew she wasn’t at full speed yet. “I’m sorry. For bringing it up,” he murmured near her ear. 

“Don’t. I don’t want to talk about it right now,” she replied. 

Okay then. Bucky remained silent for the rest of the trip, his head resting against her shoulder. Surprisingly, there was no bounce in her run. She moved fluidly, her upper body still while her legs did the work. Bucky could almost forget she was moving at all. It was freaky. He sighed. Everything about the situation he was in was freaky. When would he be used to it?

She put him down about a mile out of town. “We’ll walk the rest of the way,” said (Y/N) shortly. Still, she took his hand, and together they walked to the edge of town. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a little short, but hopefully next week’s will be longer. I’ve got some plans 🤭
> 
> Thank you for the comments! They make me feel oh-so-good. And thanks for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

The neighboring town was quaint, but thoroughly more modern than yours had been. An inn stood just on the edge of town, only the office window illuminated. The wind picked up. You grabbed James’s hand and hurried towards the inn. A bell above the door tinkled as you walked in. You shook the snow off of you and James did the same. He seemed relieved at being greeted by warmth. It all felt the same to you.

A woman behind the desk eyed you warily. Her eyes turned to the clock. Your gaze was drawn there as well and you bit your lip. It was nearly 3 in the morning. You nudged James and pushed him towards the desk.

James cleared his throat and smiled at the woman. “ _Bună seara,_ we’d like a room please,” he said smoothly.

The woman pushed a ledger book towards him. He signed it. She handed him a key without speaking and pointed to a sign that said ‘payment due upon checkout’. James thanked her in Romanian, and the both of you hightailed out of there.

“I didn’t realize you spoke Romanian,” you said as he struggled to unlock the door.

“Sure,” said James. “I lived here for two years.” He pushed open the door and went inside with an exhale. You stood just on the threshold, unable to pass through the doorway. James flicked on the light. He shucked off his jacket. You remained outside. “What’s wrong?” he asked when he noticed where you were stopped. “You don’t like the room?”

“James,” you said, trying not to be annoyed. “I need you to invite me in.”

His eyebrows raised. “Really? Even in hotel rooms?”

“Even in hotel rooms. It’s under your name,” you explained.

“Oh. Well. Come in,” he said, a little stiffly.

The barrier broke and you stepped inside with a sigh. “Thank you.” You shut the door behind you and slipped off your shoes.

James unbuttoned his shirt and shouldered it off. He winced. You were at his side in an instant, concern filling you. With all your worrying about your own fate, you’d hardly taken the time to tend to James’s health. “Are you in pain?” you asked, carefully running your hands over his shoulders. He winced again when you passed over where flesh met the metal of his left shoulder. Applying pressure, you could feel hard muscle, tension forming a tight ball. It felt hot and angry. You wondered how long he had silently dealt with his condition. “Gosh, James, don’t you ever relax?”

Your teasing caused his lips to twitch into a small smile. “No,” he admitted.

You tsked and pointed to the bed. “Sit,” you ordered. James obliged, but he didn’t look happy about it.

“What’re you up to?” asked James as you settled behind him.

“What do you think?” you cooed. “I’m going to help you relax.”

“You don’t have to—“

You shushed him and went to work rubbing the tension out of his shoulders. He went slack almost immediately, his head drooping forward slightly so his hair covered his face. Under your touch, his body became pliable. Tension that felt like it had been there for decades melted away. Soft groans left his chest. It was enough to make you blush; if you had been able to blush, that is.

Your fingertips brushed against his bandaged neck and he shuddered. You watched him bring his hand up and tear the bandage away, giving you access to the rest of his skin. The roughness of his action split delicate, healing tissue. His wound began to slowly weep.

James didn’t move. You didn’t move. He knew he was bleeding. You obviously did too. A heavy silence permeated the air. Pearls of blood ran down his neck to his shoulders, sliding easily over the fingers you were trying not to dig into his shoulders. You brought your hand up, marveling at the way his blood ran down it. Without thinking, you brought your hand closer to your face and inhaled.

You had the sense to back up. You began to shake. Your pupils dilated. Your fangs had long since extended by the time you brought the bloodied hand to your mouth. The taste exploded on your tongue.

James watched this happen with a neutral expression and stood at the edge of the bed. He watched the way you licked off every drop from your hand. He did nothing. He didn’t back away. He didn’t cower in fear. James just stood there and stared at you.

You would’ve been unnerved if you weren’t high off your ass on human blood.

It had been so long since your last proper meal, and there James stood, with the most delicious blood you’d ever tasted, unmoving.

Something snapped. Instinct took over. James never stood a chance.

You pinned him to the wall and inhaled heavily. Your eyelids fluttered. He smelled divine. You ran your tongue along the thin line of blood that had trailed down his skin. James shuddered beneath you, but otherwise showed no signs of resistance.

“(Y/N),” he said, his voice rough, almost pleading. What he was asking for, you couldn’t tell.

“Shhh,” you hushed. The voice that came out of you wasn’t your own. It was something quiet and predatory, sticky and cloying; compelling. You pressed open-mouthed kisses along his shoulder until you got to the open wound. Unwilling to open it any further, you retracted your fangs and suctioned around the opening. Blood spurt into your mouth as James’s heart beat faster. He wriggled beneath you. You pinned him harder to the wall.

“(Y/N), please,” he gasped. You were gorged on his blood and had to fight with yourself to stop. You finally separated with a gasp, blood dribbling from the corners of your mouth, and let go of him. James slid down the wall, conscious but too woozy to stand. You crouched in front of him and leaned forward. He didn’t shy away. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, almost invitingly.

You ran your tongue over the wound to staunch the bleeding. It clotted quickly. “You’re such a good boy,” you cooed, tucking his hair behind his ear. James blossomed under your praise, a dreamy smile gracing his handsome face.

“Am I really?” asked James.

“Oh yes,” you confirmed with a nod. You lifted him up bridal style and carried him to the bed. You laid him out and he looked up at you adoringly.

“Felt good,” he mumbled. His eyes shut and fluttered open again. “Do it again?”

“No, baby, not tonight.” You combed back his hair and retrieved the bandages from your bag. You carefully bandaged up his neck. You stroked his cheek. His hand came up and covered yours. Affection still remained evident in his eyes, along with a hint of sadness. No fear, however. “You know, for someone with a fear of vampires, you’re not very good at being afraid of vampires,” you teased gently.

He grinned. “Can’t find anything to be afraid of,” said James.

You shook your head. You were sure he would feel very different after a good day’s sleep. You would too, once the blood high left your system, but that was a problem for tomorrow’s you. You kissed James’s forehead and settled beside him in bed. He shut off the light. You cuddled close to him. The sun began to rise, and soon, sated and warm, you were drawn into death sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for regrets!


	12. Chapter 12

The first thing Bucky felt as he slipped out of sleep and into consciousness was a headache. He felt his pulse in his temples. His mouth was dry. Bucky felt like he had a hangover, even though that was impossible thanks to the super-soldier serum that constantly refreshed his cells. Besides, he didn’t remember drinking. Admittedly, he didn’t remember much. He and (Y/N) had gotten a room at the inn, but everything after that was kinda fuzzy. Just a flash of pain, followed by pleasurable drowsiness. 

(Y/N) stirred in his arms. Bucky smiled down at her. He studied her. Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked better than she had in a long time. She looked almost the same as she did when he first got to the castle.

Bucky paled. There was only one thing that could have made her look that refreshed, and it wasn’t sleep. 

His hand went to his neck on its own accord. His wound was bandaged well, in unfamiliar material. He hadn’t done that, and he didn’t remember (Y/N) doing it for him. Bucky’s mouth turned into a grimace. Why couldn’t he remember?

(Y/N)’s eyes fluttered open. Once she focused on him, she smiled, her fangs glinting softly. “Good evening, James,” she purred sleepily. She turned in his arms so they were chest to chest and cuddled closer to him. 

“Evening,” he replied, shorter than he intended. There was unexplained irritation in his voice. (Y/N) looked up at him in confusion. Bucky watched as realization slowly dawned on her. He didn’t know what she was realizing, but from the look on her face, it wasn’t anything good. “What?” he asked. 

“Oh James,” she breathed. She scrambled out of his arms and stood, backing up towards the door. “Oh James,” she repeated. “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Bucky sat up. A twinge of pain pulsed in his neck. (Y/N) winced right as he did. His shackles rose as he began to remember more from last night. “You—“ He cut himself off, his anger leaving him speechless. White, hot fury coursed through him, fueled by a sense of betrayal. “You drank my blood! You used your freaky mind powers on me!”

(Y/N) seemed at a loss for words. All she did was stammer nonsensically. 

Bucky stood from the bed and picked up his shirt from the floor. Being shirtless made him feel vulnerable, and he’d had quite enough of that. “Well?” he asked, feeling rather like a scolding father. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

(Y/N) was near tears when she spoke. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to,” she rushed out, the words barely intelligible. “I couldn’t help—“

“Couldn’t help yourself? What about all those other times?” Bucky demanded. “You held back then.”

She was crying now. “James, I’m sorry, I was just so hungry—“

Bucky cut her off again, holding up his hand to silence her. “You betrayed my trust,” he said coldly. “The blood drinking is bad enough. The mind control is too far. I knew this was a mistake. This whole trip was a bad idea.” 

(Y/N) was full on sobbing, blood-tears running down her face in earnest. “You can’t mean that,” she wailed. 

“I can, and I do.” His words were ice, and each syllable pierced her more deeply than any stake could. He knew he was hurting her, but at that moment, he didn’t care. “I can’t be around you. You can’t control yourself. I’ll find my own way back. I want you to leave.”

She fell to her knees, unable to support herself any longer. “Please,” she hiccuped. “Please James, don’t make me leave. I love you.” 

“You don’t love me,” he spat. “You used me just like She did.” 

The reference to Katherine made her wince. Her crying was reduced to sniffling and whimpering, and she slowly stood. “That was just cruel,” croaked (Y/N). She wiped the blood off her cheeks with a sniff. “Fine. You want me gone? I’m gone.” She looked at him, and the sudden coldness of her eyes made Bucky shiver. There was the vampire capable of killing her sire. There was the monster buried beneath her facade. The room temperature dropped three degrees. “You’re the meanest man I’ve ever met, James Buchanan Barnes,” said (Y/N) resolutely. “I wish I never dreamt of you.” 

She turned sharply, left the room, and slammed the hotel door shut behind her. A bit of ceiling plaster fell onto the floor. Too hyped up from his rage to sit down, Bucky began to pace angrily. The nerve of her, to act like his anger was something other than rightful! To act like it was his fault! He ached to punch something. Instead, he slid the room key into his pocket, pulled on his coat, and left as well. 

The cold was bracing as it whipped his cheeks until they were red. Bucky flipped up the collar of the jacket, using it to shield his exposed face the best he could. The chill sapped his anger from him fast and left him exhausted. And sad. He was so sad. 

He could see footprints leaving the room, heading towards town. Bucky followed them, although he had no intention of confronting the one who made the prints. Every few steps, there was a spattering of blood. Bucky grimaced. She was crying again. 

Her tracks curled towards an alley between two houses, but Bucky kept his course straight, heading towards what he hoped would be the town center. Snow crunched below his feet. The town was quiet but not silent, the thrum of life evident even to his human ears. He sneered slightly at the thought.  _ Sorry my senses aren’t as keen as yours, (Y/N) _ , he thought, then frowned. Whatever. It didn’t matter. She’d be fine. 

The closer he got to the town center, the more people he saw milling about. Granted, it wasn’t hard to be more than zero, but still. Life. 

A neon sign advertising a restaurant blinked lazily at him. He guessed it couldn’t have been later than 8 pm, so he pushed the door open, pleased when it opened easily. Heat enveloped him and he slid off his coat, using it to hide his metal hand. A hostess perked up when he entered and considered him. Bucky was sure he was an odd sight, with grubby hair, outdated clothes, and a bandaged neck, but the hostess didn’t comment. She just led him to a table, set a menu in front of him, and left him alone. 

Bucky exhaled. He scratched his beard as he considered his menu. Slowly, he realized two things. One, this was the first time he’d been alone, well and truly alone, in roughly a month or two. He wasn’t sure. Time wasn’t something he’d ever been good at keeping track of, and being held captive by vampires tended to make that  kind of thing worse. 

Two, he didn’t have any money.

A server came to take Bucky’s order and stopped dead in his tracks once he got a good look at him. “Wolf,” he said, his voice accented. 

“Sorry?” Bucky asked, confused. 

“ _ Tu ești lupul _ . White Wolf,” the server said in awe. “Barnes!” The server pointed excitedly to a TV in the back of the restaurant. “ _ Sterili _ !” 

Bucky blinked. “The news?” he asked. He turned his head, and sure enough, there was a news anchor on the television who had a picture of him floating next to her head. Bucky scrambled out of his chair and gestured for the server to unmute the TV. Piecing together her Romanian, (he was rusty with his translation) he found out he had been missing for two months, and anyone with information on his disappearance was encouraged to call the Avengers hotline. 

Bucky and the server looked at each other, both in awe of each other. “Phone?” Bucky asked, his voice cracking slightly. “Do you have a phone?” 

The server nodded and fumbled to get his cell phone out of his pocket. He unlocked it and handed it to Bucky. 

Bucky quickly found the phone app and, not wanting to waste time with the Avengers’ hotline, dialed Steve’s personal number. It rang three times before a very gruff Steve answered. “Hello?” 

“Steve,” Bucky breathed out. “God, I can’t tell you how good it is to hear your voice.” 

There was a loud clang on the other end of the line and a beat before Steve spoke again. “Bucky? Is that you?” he asked tentatively, like he didn’t know if he could believe it. 

“It’s me,” Bucky assured him. 

“Where the hell have you been?” asked Steve, his voice raised slightly. 

Bucky exhaled. “It’s a long story, pal.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh, looks like actions have consequences! I am not the best at angst, it’s never really been my forte, but hopefully that was suitable enough. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Your comments mean the world to me.


	13. Chapter 13

The snow was almost a reprieve. Not that you felt the cold. All you felt was hurt. Hurt, and anger. Anger at James. Mostly anger at yourself. One moment of weakness, one loss of restraint, and you ruined your life. Because that’s what your life was now. Ruined. You had nowhere to go. Your sire was dead, by your own hand. Your home was uninhabitable. The love of your life hated you. Oh, and the vampire council was probably tracking you down at that very moment. 

You exhaled as you trudged aimlessly through the village. At least you had that to look forward to. The council would try you, kill you, and you wouldn’t have to deal with your ruined life anymore.

The thought almost brought a smile to your face.

Salty blood-tears dripped uninhibited down your face, staining the snow as you walked. You wouldn’t have noticed if they didn’t sting so bad. You wiped angrily at your eyes, but they continued to weep. You hiccuped and kept trudging. 

The wind picked up, sending snowflakes swirling around you. Soon, you could hardly see in front of you at all. “Some flurry,” you muttered to yourself. 

“Snow is my specialty, after all,” a voice cooed in your ear. 

You whirled around, trying to find the source. You stumbled backwards and tripped over an unseen rock, falling flat on your back. With a groan, you attempted to roll onto your stomach, but something kept you down. The snow cleared just enough for you to see a figure approach you. “Seems you’ve gotten yourself in some trouble,” said the voice in your ear. The voice was bright, almost cheerful, and almost certainly male. 

The snow cleared even further, and soon you were enclosed in your own personal flurry with another vampire. “Demitri,” you spat. 

Demitri remained unchanged since your last meeting with him, near a century ago. Same white hair. Same unnerving gray eyes. He was pale, even for a vampire, and he looked… unnatural. He was much older than you. Older than Katherine had been. He was ancient and unknowable. Seeing him sent a chill up your spine that had nothing to do with the weather. 

“So good to see you again, (Y/N),” said Demitri. “How long has it been?”

“Not long enough,” you muttered. You stared up at him, and he stared at you, unflinching. The weight on your chest increased. 

“Pardon?” he asked with a mephistophelian smile. You knew he heard you. 

“Who can say, really?” you replied, louder than before, with forced breeziness. “What are you doing here?”

“Ah, right to business, I see.” Demitri grinned and sat upon nothing, his posture perfect nonetheless. “Is it not enough that perhaps I wanted to catch up with an old friend?”

“Friend,” you repeated. “Demitri, we were never friends. We were hardly acquaintances.” 

“Pah,” he ejected, waving his hand through your words. “Nonsense. I recall getting quite close during the last Unholy M—“

“Cut to the chase,” you ground out through gritted teeth. 

Demitri held up his hands in mock surrender. The weight on your chest was alleviated enough that you could sit up. “Very well, (Y/N). At your insistence,” he said with his wicked, unflappable smile. He took great enjoyment from your annoyance. “The Council has sent me to retrieve you.” 

You groaned. “Why you?” you asked.

He shrugged, his hands up in a sort of ‘what can you do’ pose. “Perhaps they knew we had been close.”

“We weren’t close,” you growled. 

Demitri continued as if he hadn’t heard you. “Or perhaps they just know I’m more powerful than you. Either way, I’ve come to collect you. And here you are,” he said, looking down at you with perverse pleasure. “Collected.” 

Pressure surrounded your arms, binding them to your sides. “Up you come,” Demitri said cheerfully, pulling you up from your seated position. With hands on your shoulders, he began to push you towards the woods beyond the village. “You’ll be good, won’t you?”

“It seems I don’t have much of a choice,” you grumbled. 

“No,” said Demitri. “You don’t.”

* * *

There was quite a hullabaloo as a quinjet touched down outside the small Romanian town that currently held a certain missing Avenger. By then, it was late afternoon, and Bucky had been awake for nearly 20 hours. He stood amongst a crowd of people, composed of nearly every villager living in the town, and watched as the hatch slowly opened. Steve was the first one out, dressed in full Captain America regalia, his head whipping from side to side as he attempted to find Bucky. The missing Avenger couldn’t help but smile. 

Bucky moved through the crowd easily, and was nearly knocked over as Steve embraced him. “Jeez,” murmured Bucky, returning the hug. “Did you miss me?” 

“Of course I did,” Steve replied against Bucky’s shoulder. He pulled back to look him over, Steve's mouth set into a thin line. “Jesus Bucky, you look terrible.”

Bucky scratched at his beard self-consciously. “You try being captured for two months, see how good you look afterwards,” he said.

Steve smiled apologetically. “What the hell are you wearing?” asked Steve with a laugh. 

Bucky laughed as well. “Look, can we go please? I’ll tell you on the way home.” 

“Sure, sure.” Steve ushered his friend onto the quinjet. The hatch closed. The jet lifted, and took off, leaving about a thousand stunned Romanians to watch as they flew away. 

The inside of the quinjet was comforting in its familiarity. Bucky took a seat and ran a tired hand through his dirty hair. Steve sat across from him. There was a beat of silence. “I don’t want to push you, but—“ Steve started.

“Yeah, yeah,” interrupted Bucky. He exhaled heavily. “Just gimme a minute, okay?”

“You bet.” Steve stood. “You want a glass of water or something?” At Bucky’s nod, Steve left him alone to go scavenge for a beverage. 

“How you feeling, old man?” a familiar voice called from the cockpit. 

“Sam?” Bucky croaked. He stood and approached the cockpit. Sure enough, Sam Wilson was seated in the pilot’s chair, flashing Bucky a smile before looking back to the horizon. 

“You thought I’d miss picking you up?” Sam asked warmly. He made a clicking noise with his mouth. “Not a chance.” 

Bucky’s heart was warmed momentarily. “Thanks,” said Bucky, and he meant it. 

Sam waved him away. “Don’t mention it. Go sit back down,” he ordered. 

Bucky returned to his seat, and then Steve was there with a friendly smile and a bottle of water. Bucky drank it down hastily. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was. “Thanks, Steve,” he said.

“You’re welcome, Buck.” Steve reclined in his seat and considered his friend. Bucky studied him with equal intensity. Steve looked rather haggard. He’d grown out his beard, his hair was longer than his usual army regulation cut, and the bags under his eyes were dark. Bucky’s jaw clenched. He reckoned Steve looked that way because of him. 

Bucky scratched at his own beard, an action that was quickly developing into a habit. “How’s home?” Bucky asked. 

Steve smiled wryly. “Home’s fine,” he assured him. 

There was a lengthy pause. “Nat’s okay?” he asked. 

Steve nodded. “Nat’s okay.” 

“She’s not here,” Bucky pointed out. 

“No,” Steve said slowly. “She’s on a mission right now. Couldn’t make it.” 

Bucky nodded. “Right. Okay.” He took a deep breath. Steve opened his mouth to speak, but Bucky waved him off. “I’m ready,” he said. He sounded tired, even to his own ears. 

Bucky slowly began to recount his life over the past two months, starting from the woods where he was captured. Most of his time seemed like a blur, but he remembered some things. He certainly remembered (Y/N). Bucky filled in Steve of all the events up until last night. He didn’t mention the fight.

Steve remained quiet for a few moments once Bucky had finished. “(Y/N) seems,” he paused to search for a word, “decent.” 

Bucky shrugged. “I guess,” he replied, nonchalant. “We got. Close.” 

“Close?” asked Steve with an arched eyebrow. 

Bucky nodded, and did not elaborate. Steve didn’t ask him to. 

“Where is she now?” Steve asked. 

Bucky scratched his beard. “I— I don’t know,” he admitted. “We had a fight. She left. I left. That’s when I found the phone.” 

Steve’s mouth set into a thin line. “What was the fight about?”

“I don’t remember,” Bucky lied. “Something stupid. It doesn’t matter. She’ll be fine.” He saw the look on Steve’s face. “What? You don’t think so?”

“I didn’t say that,” said Steve firmly. “She sounds resourceful. I’m just concerned about this business with the council.” 

“You think I’m not?” Bucky was suddenly filled with frustration. “She broke her laws for me, Steve.” 

“I know.” Steve placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll be fine, Buck,” he said, attempting to reassure him. It was too late. Steve could see the panic that had passed over his friend’s face. “Should we try to find her?” 

Bucky chewed on his lip. “I dunno. She’s probably still mad at me.” He let out a breathy laugh. “She called me the meanest man she’d ever met,” he said, his voice cracking. “You believe that?” 

The look Steve gave him was pity, pure and simple. “She was just hurt, Bucky. I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”

“Yeah.” Emotion swelled up in Bucky’s chest, and for a moment he felt tears prick his eyes. “I said worse stuff, anyhow.” He inhaled shakily. “I think I— I think I miss her, Steve. And it feels weird. I don’t know if it’s a vampire thing or—“ Bucky cut himself off. 

Steve moved to the seat next to him and placed a reassuring hand on Bucky’s back. “Or if you just like her?” he supplied. 

Bucky nodded. “Yeah. I don’t know which is worse.” 


	14. Chapter 14

_ His hand fit neatly in hers. The road that stretched ahead of them was seemingly endless, but with her beside him, Bucky didn’t care. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and grinned at him. “What’d you do that for?” he grumbled, glancing at her.  _

_ “Just thinking,” (Y/N) chirped.  _

_ “About what?”  _

_ “You, of course,” she said with a laugh that sounded like the tinkle of wind chimes. “I’m always thinking about you.”  _

_ The scene shifted suddenly. Bucky was in a dark, dank cell. It was familiar, despite the fact that he’d never been in it. Scanning his surroundings, he saw a body slumped against the wall. Bucky knelt in front of it. Limp, shineless hair obscured the face, but Bucky knew who it was. He lifted her chin, and sure enough, the hair fell back to reveal a very sick-looking (Y/N). Her eyes were dull as they stared at him without looking. The veins in her face were dark, creating a sort of blue spider web across her skin. His name was a whisper through paper thin lips. Her head tilted back, forced by some unseen hand, and an inhuman scream was ripped from her.  _

Bucky woke up screaming. He sat up in bed and attempted to gather his wits. His heart beat wildly in his chest; he was panting. He wasn’t in the cell, he was in his room at the Avengers’ compound. 

His door burst open, revealing a very frazzled, tired Steve. “Buck,” he barked. “You okay?”

“We have to find her,” Bucky managed to choke out. “She’s in trouble.”

“Who?” Steve asked. He sat next to his friend on the bed, placing a hand on Bucky’s knee. 

Bucky looked at him like he was stupid. “Who do you think, Steve? (Y/N).”

Steve’s mouth tightened into a line. “It was just a bad dream,” he said gently. His hand squeezed Bucky’s knee.

Bucky wasn’t buying it. He shook his head. “We gotta find her,” insisted Bucky. “You didn’t see what I saw.” 

“You didn’t even see it, Bucky,” Steve pointed out. “It was a dream.” 

Bucky threw the covers off, batting away Steve’s hand in the process. “Fine, if you don’t want to help me, I’ll do it myself.” 

“Slow down there,” Steve cautioned. He stood as Bucky did and put his hands on his shoulders, carefully pushing him back down. “If you really want to go, we’ll go, but not right now. It’s three in the morning.” 

“It’s urgent,” Bucky protested. 

Steve looked unsure. “We’ll put together a whole team, if you feel that strongly.” 

Bucky perked up at that. 

“In the morning.” 

Bucky’s shoulders sank. He put his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He exhaled and dragged his hands down his face. At least Steve was listening to him. “Fine,” conceded Bucky. “In the morning.” Under his breath, he murmured, “If she can even hang on that long.” 

Steve looked very much like he wanted to give a pointed retort, but he kept his mouth shut. He squeezed Bucky’s shoulder, turned with one last look over his shoulder, and left the room. The door shut behind him with a soft click. Alone again, Bucky collapsed on his bed and stared up at the ceiling, tracing paint strokes with his eyes until they drooped shut and he was asleep again. 

* * *

The cell was so cold. Colder than anything you’d ever felt. You were so weak, you could hardly raise your head, so your vision was obscured by a curtain of hair. Not that you had much to look at. The walls of your cell were bare, and there were no windows. No coffin either, so you were propped up against the wall even as death-sleep overtook you. The only thing that reminded you of your own life were the pangs of hunger that curdled your stomach bad enough that you could have gagged. 

You were unable to tell how long you’d been imprisoned. The vampire council was not known for their speedy justice system. You’d been pushed into the cell you inhabited, and surrounded with enough garlic to choke a horse, the minute Demitri had transported you to the Headquarters. If you had the strength to scoff, you would have. Of course Demitri could control the weather AND teleport. Assholes get all the luck. 

Starved and sapped of your strength, you could feel your body dying. A cursory glance would have shown you dry veins pressed close to the surface of ashen skin, pleading to be refilled. So, you didn’t look. You dozed between sleep and death-sleep, hardly ever opening your eyes. You dreamed of James and better days, and hated yourself for it. He was why you were here.

No. That wasn’t fair. You were why you were here. To blame him would be to do yourself injustice. You made the decision to kill Katherine. You made the decision to run away. James had only been a spark of hope in an otherwise dull existence.

James was as much your salvation as he was your damnation. 


	15. Chapter 15

The lock of your cell clicked, rousing you from your snooze. You could smell him before he even entered. You managed to tilt your head back enough to watch as Demitri strode into your cell, expensively dressed and covered in so much cologne that it overpowered the pervasive garlic smell. He recoiled slightly at the sight of you and covered his nose with the back of his hand. You felt a pang of satisfaction mix with your Hunger. Good. Let him know how you suffered. How he enabled your suffering. “(Y/N),” said Demitri, cool as ever, despite his obvious disgust. “You look terrible.”

“Oh?” you asked, your voice a whisper. It sounded more like a sheaf of paper than a voice, really. “Funny coming from you.”

Demitri tsked. “Harsh words aimed at someone who wishes to help you,” he said, a delicate frown on his cruel, handsome face. From behind his back, he pulled a bottle. He unscrewed the cap and flicked it off. The smell of blood hit you like a truck. If you had more energy, you would have lunged at him. Demitri saw the way you flinched and grinned. “Hungry, aren’t you?” His smooth voice was mocking. He crouched in front of you and pushed your hair out of your face. Why, you didn’t know; besides the fact he obviously got pleasure from this. “Drink up, darling,” he cooed, and tilted your head back, pouring blood between your parted lips. 

You waited for him to stop pouring. Then, you closed your mouth and spit the blood back in his face. “Fuck you, Demitri,” you snarled weakly. 

Demitri grimaced as he wiped red off his face, staining his velvet sleeve. “Beggars can’t be choosers,” he said, bright, with a bit of bite in his tone.

“I don’t remember begging in the first place,” you replied. Despite yourself, you licked the excess blood of your lips and felt a rush of delight. “O positive?” you whispered.

“Your favorite,” he agreed smugly. “Now, will you be good?” You lost the resolve to make a witty retort when Demitri tilted your head back and began to bottle feed you again. 

This time, you savored the feeling of the blood sliding down your gullet, the taste of O positive bright on your tongue. You moaned when he pulled the empty bottle away, following his hand. The rush of the feed made your head fuzzy, and your heavy-lidded eyes slid open just enough for you to look up at Demitri. “Why are you doing this to me?” you croaked, your voice no longer paper thin.

Demitri considered you for a moment, joy radiating behind his relaxed facade. “I hope this serves as a reminder,” he purred. His thin, pale fingers ran along your jaw. “We used to be so close.” With his thumb, he wiped away a stray drop of blood. He licked it off with a sly smile. “I could cut you a deal, you know. I am a council member now.” 

Your newly warmed veins ran cold. “You are?” you asked, terror sneaking into your voice. “Who did you have to kill for that position?”

Demitri smiled, but ignored the question. “You haven’t been a very good vampire lately, (Y/N). I heard you’ve been consorting with humans.” He got very close to your face. “Now, I’m not one to shame others’ personal tastes,” he hissed suggestively, “but humans? Really?” He laughed, cold and bright. “I can’t imagine the appeal in fucking your food.”

Red hot embarrassment curled up your neck, and you gasped audibly. “I didn’t— We haven’t—” you babbled. 

Demitri laughed again, this time with legitimate amusement. “Now now, darling, no need to be shy,” he said, drolly. “As I said, I shan’t shame you.” His voice was bubbly with delight. Once again, his pleasure at your discomfort was apparent. “I just hope you know you can do better.”

“Are you implying you’re the better candidate?” you asked incredulously. The answering silence was enough.

You actually laughed, right in his face. Demitri frowned. “Is it so preposterous?” he asked, standing. You’d penetrated his usually impervious ego. “You never seemed opposed to it before.” 

“Demitri,” you said, looking up at him with awe. “I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last vampire on Earth.”

Anger clouded his face for a split second. The room temperature dropped to near sub-zero, freezing the garlic that were littered around you. “We’ll see how smug you are during your trial,” he hissed. Then, he left the room with a grand sweep of the cape that suddenly appeared around his neck, snowflakes littering the ground in his wake. 

The lock clicked with finality. It would not open again soon. Your body relaxed the moment he was out of your cell. Partially renewed by the bottle of blood Demitri had poured down your throat, you could feel strength returning to your limbs. Looking down allowed you a glimpse of your skin, now mostly restored to its former smooth texture. Without the debilitating garlic, your sinuses cleared, and you began to feel more like your old self. The Hunger in your stomach was subdued for the moment, but you knew it would not last for long. One thing became very clear. Demitri on the council was a definite death sentence. The hopelessness you felt at the beginning of your imprisonment was replaced with spite, pure and powerful. You had to survive, if only to drive a stake further into Demitri’s pride. You had to get back to James. You had to get out of there. 

* * *

The morning couldn’t come fast enough. Bucky awoke the second light peeked through his window. He took a quick shower, dressed, and was downstairs before anyone else. Bucky waited anxiously in the kitchen. Slowly, his teammates came down to join him. First Steve, then Nat, and finally Sam, all descending from the floor that housed their quarters. 

“You’re up early,” Nat remarked as she slipped onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar. 

“He wants to go,” Steve answered for him. He grabbed the juice from the fridge and poured himself a glass. “Bucky, when I said in the morning, I didn’t mean first thing.”

Bucky let out a frustrated sigh. “Steve. It’s a time sensitive thing,” he explained shortly.

Steve just stared at him and drank his juice.

“What’s going on?” Sam stole the Steve’s cup out of his hand and drained the rest of it, despite Steve’s quiet ‘Hey!’ of protest. 

“It’s (Y/N),” Steve explained for Bucky yet again. Bucky was getting steadily more annoyed with his best friend’s nonchalance. 

“The vampire chick?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow. “What about her?”

“Vampire chick?” Nat piped up. “What did I miss?”

Bucky groaned. “You didn’t brief them?”

Steve had the decency to look embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t know if you wanted them to know.”

“Know what?” Nat asked. Her eyes narrowed. She watched Bucky a little closer. “Oh my god,” she said with a slight chuckle. “You’re in love.”

“What?” Steve and Bucky asked, at the same time, at varying degrees of hysteria. 

“It’s written all over your face,” Nat said simply. Sam poured her a glass of juice. She sipped it with a slight smirk. 

“You just told me you liked her,” Steve said, shock obvious on his face. “You didn’t tell me you were in love with her.” 

“I didn’t even say that!” Bucky exclaimed. “I don’t—“ He was at a loss for words. Did he?

“You do,” Nat cooed. “Relax about it. It’s not a big deal.” 

Sam laughed. “Tensions seem a bit high between you two. What’s going on?” 

Seeing that Bucky was too shook to reply, Steve explained about the nightmare. Nat and Sam listened with troubled expressions. “And you think the dream was real?” Nat asked gently.

“I know it was,” Bucky replied. “She’s got like. Freaky mind stuff she can do. I think she was trying to tell me she’s in danger.”

“We wouldn’t even know where to start looking,” said Nat. 

A heavy silence blanketed the room. Sam stiffened, his eyes focused on something just over Bucky’s shoulder. “Uh. Guys?” he croaked. 

Everyone turned to see a red envelope floating in midair. Bucky’s full name, James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, was written out in delicate, glowing script. “What the hell?” Bucky murmured. He plucked the envelope from the air. His friends watched him open it, read it, and get progressively more pallid. 

“The suspense is killing me,” Nat groaned. “What is it? What’s it say?”

Bucky looked up, and fixed them all a wide-eyed stare. “It’s from the vampire council,” he said. “I’m being called as a witness for (Y/N)’s trial.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please let me know if you have any questions, comments, or concerns.


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